"This is the Jam of the Lord" The music doesn't play itself The guitar left on the stand The songs unplayed, silence sustains the hand The absence felt The words not said The time that could have been better spent Now I write because you can't And carry on what your music meant In our minds And in our hearts Though we've lost much Onward we march And we - we won't forget Carry on 'til the end For every fallen friend We will pay our respects 'Til we too, are gone Rock on… Rock on

She's got a butt A really really nice butt I've got a butt A really really good butt Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - owww Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - yeah Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - owww Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - wow! She's got a butt (butt) A really really nice butt (butt) He's got a butt (butt) A really really fat ass Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - owww Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - yeah Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - owww Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass, ass Ass, ass, ass, ass - wow! I like her ass more than anyone else! How do I prove this? I feed her chicken and waffles When she passes gas, I do a bong rip. (sample: "She's got a great ass... and you got your head... all the way up it!")

One Eyed Dog One Eyed Dog He's always fuckin' barkin' at me One Eyed Dog He yaps so much he popped an eye Now the other one has got a sty Only ever seems to eat half his lunch But at least he only cries half as much One Eyed Dog One Eyed Dog He's always fuckin' barkin' at me One Eyed Dog

I'm going to guitar center. This is what is sounds like here. Hehe. I'm going to buy some equipment. And onions. And tits. I don't even care if Facebook is on. Oh NO! I dread having to talk to those Guitar Center clerks. Always trying to sell me tech I don't need! I need to join the dollar guitar equipment club. For the love of Indra, I play a half broken banjo on a back porch while wearing a straw hat! Stop trying to sell me a limited edition Fender amp hooked up to a ProTools switch harmonic arpeggiator descrambler, you fat, clean-cut, fake hippie! GRAAAAAAMMMMM!!!! Hey man, what's up? I play in a metal band. I'm looking for a Raven cab with a Line-6 head cheap. Can you help me out? Let me ask you something. What kind of sound are you looking for? I think what you really need is this Fender Vintage Reissue '65 Twin Reverb Guitar Combo Amp. 85W and it's only $1,499.99. Now let me tell you what accessories you'll need... Gggggrrrhghhghrhhghg DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!! Yyraaaghghghghgghgh [sandwich eating sounds] I'd rather you try to sell me a shit sandwich. (sample: "Excuse me. Who ordered the hamburger with AIDS?" "I ordered the hamburger deluxe..." "In this restarurant, a hamburger deluxe come with french fries, lettuce, tomato, mayo and AIDS! Everything on your goddamn table got AIDS." "You still ain't makin' me eat no AIDS burger!" "Well, all you gotta do is say 'Hold the AIDS.' Eat it." [scuffle] "Bitch, you come in my house, you gon' eat my food the way I fuckin' make it!") Oh! This is what it sounds like when you try to sell me that CRAP!

(sample: Errol: "This is Carcosa. Come die with me, little priest. Take off your mask.") Verse 1: She's dancing in the club Tryin to get fucked up So she orders another drink I guess she didn't see It was spiked with DMT So into another world she sinks Demons wearing suits Clawing at her in pursuit So she frantically runs away Screaming down the street She tripped over her own feet And she woke up in another place When she came to Her head was black and blue She was tied up by a Satanic kvlt It's a sacrificial rite She was stabbed and then she died So if she's late to work it's not her fault chorus: You need to stop shaving Why don't you grow out your hair? Go do all the goddamn drugs you can Just stop showing up to work And when you do show up, go high Join a heavy metal band and set yourself on fire. Verse 2: Meaann--while back in Mass On Main St Hyannis I was walking out of Spinnaker's When a guy came up to me It was Clif Hanger from the Freeze He asked me for some Concerta, Then he asked for Ritalin Maybe some aphetamine Gave up and settled for a smoke I gave him a Parliament And down the street he went Whisling the bassline to Broken Bones chorus: You need to take an iron graft your battle jacket to your skin Never fucking shower again Eat a bowl of scorpions Drop Lysergic acid in your eyes Go where the tatters of King forever hide (sample: Cohle: "In eternity, where there is no time, nothing can grow. Nothing can become. Nothing changes. So death created time to grow the things that it would kill and you are reborn but into the same life that you’ve always been born into. When you can’t remember your lives, you can’t change your lives, and that is the terrible and secret fate of all life. You’re trapped, by that nightmare you keep waking up into.") chorus: You need to stop shaving Why don't you grow out your hair? Go do all the goddamn drugs you can Just stop showing up to work And when you do show up, go high Reject Christ and become a vampyre Join a heavy metal band and set yourself on fire.

War going on inside my head I can't get to sleep, I'd rather be dead Don't try to tell me, I can't hear your words I'm not long for this world I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do Everyday seems the same, I might as well die... I can't get what I want, what's the fucking point Why the hell should I go on, the bottom's fallen out I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do Everyday seems the same, I might as well die...

BANZAI! Here they come, clubowners beware They're not welcome, but they don't care They're gonna rip this place apart Thrash to the finish, thrash from the start Don't be a fool, No choice for you They're gonna do what they wanna do They wear chains and they don leather They wear boots in any weather Never dress up for a show Look this way when they're at home Don't be a fool, No choice for you They're gonna do what they wanna do They own the floor when their bands play Bouncers get bounced when they're in the way If you wanna fight you better think again If you fight one then you'll fight 10 Don't be a fool, No choice for you They're gonna do what they wanna do (fuck) (sample: "Did I really start it? Would murder not exist if I didn't kill that little shit? No one goes through this. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this! Fuck God, because there isn't one!" "Then, I approached the bowl on my knees... Trying to get my wang, the power of my wang, I'm trying to get my wang up to the rim, to, to somehow crush it. The thing that alarmed me, was that it stopped feeling so bad.. and it didn't exactly feel good... it just ceased to feel all that bad.")

Rockin' the city tonight Gonna feel the thrill tonight Gonna rock until the morning's light Not givin' up without a fight (Yeah)

(sample: Bane: "No one cared who I was until I put on the mask.") Necro-fatty Beep Whoop Whoop Woohoohoohoo Oh! Eeeeeehlblblblblblb Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah Yeah! Uauuughh! WoooooooooooOOOOooo I am moaning through the wormhole You have no reason to find to find me under the sea I make chowder? Chowder? Chowder! You are haunted by mysterious, evil, violent, aquatic chowder (I make chowder?) Look at that, Alfred Hitchcock just walked by Beware The clock… Yeaaauuggghh The clock on my stove doesn't work (I make chowder?) I'm going to get MacGregor vs. Aldo 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10 to happen In my kitchen Because I'm cooking an egg and oatmeal Oatmeal! (I make chowder?) But oatmeal and eggs do not scare you? Like evil, bloodthirsty chowder? Bloodthirsty, it's not like Tomato's in Rhode Island It's blood chowder Made from real blood (It's blood chowder) Grape Ape I'll be right back, I need to go sexually harass something Take us home, Nickelsack! (sample: CIA: "If that pull that off, will you die?" Bane: "It would be extremely painful…" CIA: "You're a big guy." Bane: "…For you.") Flush! (It's blood chowder!) Aaaaoooooooo

Foul Ball! Wait.... That's a foul fowl. You just hit a pigeon! It's a foul fowl! Good thing it was a Highlander. Otherwise, you'd have pigeon enthusiasts (foul!) Punching your face and crapping all over your yardsale! Speaking of which, I just cut the cheese and believe me, (foul!) It is FOUL! You played baseball and you hit a foul pigeon that just happens to be immortal. Next time, I'm bringing a penguin and I'm pitching it at you fast ball style! I'd pitch that penguin to you with that "gyro pitch" But no one ever figured out what the hell that was. (sample: "And another strikeout for Daisuke Matsuzaka... strikeout number 10.")

Rock N' Roll Sex & Drugs & Alcohol Well, mostly sex if you ask me Anthems of rebellion Feeling of empowerment Feelings that set you free And then There was Nickelback They try so desparately to write songs about drinking, sex and doing drugs. Songs about being a badass and driving cars really fast Like a fat asshole They think this makes them cool It doesn't It makes them cheap song writers that look like they are trying too hard to be cool Cool sucks They are not sounding badass by writing songs about drinking, sex and drugs They are making drinking, sex and drugs less cool Young adults are going around saying things like, "Hey what are you up to tonight? I'm going to drink some beers, smoke a big, fat blunt, maybe a few lines and I'm gonna fuck some chicks!" To which is dialed in friend says, "What are you, a Nickelback fan? Pffffttttt! You lame ass! Go have fun with your booze, your weed and some chick that will fuck you for a hit. I'm gonna go home, go for a jog, do my homework, get to sleep early and listen to SLAYER!!! HAIL SATAN! Cuz I'm a badass mother fucker and I don't need no wussy Nickelback." ::farting sounds:: ...And the true stand tall. ::more farting:: Shut this crap off.

How come you're always such a fussy young man? Don't want no Captain Crunch, don't want no Raisin Bran Well, don't you know that other kids are starving in Japan? So eat it, just eat itDon't wanna argue, I don't wanna debate Don't wanna hear about what kind of food you hate You won't get no dessert 'till you clean off your plate So eat itDon't you tell me you're full Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Get yourself an egg and beat it Have some more chicken, have some more pie It doesn't matter if it's broiled or friedJust eat it, eat it, just eat it, eat it Just eat it, eat it, just eat it, eat it, ooh Your table manners are a cryin' shame You're playin' with your food, this ain't some kind of game Now, if you starve to death, you'll just have yourself to blame So eat it, just eat itYou better listen, better do what you're told You haven't even touched your tuna casserole You better chow down or it's gonna get cold So eat itI don't care if you're full Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Open up your mouth and feed it Have some more yogurt, have some more Spam It doesn't matter if it's fresh or cannedJust eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Don't you make me repeat it Have a banana, have a whole bunch It doesn't matter what you had for lunch Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it If it's gettin' cold, reheat it Have a big dinner, have a light snackIf you don't like it, you can't send it back Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Get yourself an egg and beat it (Oh Lord) Have some more chicken, have some more pie It doesn't matter if it's broiled or fried Just eat it, eat it, eat it, eat it Don't you make me repeat it (Oh no) Have a banana, have a whole bunch It doesn't matter what you had for lunch

Ugh! Disgruntled chefs of the world, Your ship has just come in. You lost the hot sauce competition, But fear not; I have a recipe that will allow you to ex(tr)act revenge! We will connect your grill to an active volcano And we will pipeline in lava to your hot wings - And when your first opponent takes that first bite, His esophagus will melt, and he will have no choice But to declare you the winner of the hot sauce competition! (Because the sauce was so hot it melts the esophagus.) And just in case anyone thinks they're competition, I have a secret recipe to reactivate Mt. St. Helens And we will destroy the throats of everyone; Every chef that stands in our way! And soon the world will see that you are the chef that risen from obscurity. Ooh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ooh! Oh! Oh! BaaaaAAAaaa NyaAAhhh So you think you're a chef, and you think you got the goods, Well, bend over fucker, 'cause I'm in the woods! That's what happens when you come up with a rhyme on the spot; But I'll still cook in the woods! I'll light my grill up in the forest and I'll cook the hottest hot sauce you've ever seen! I may have forgot to bring any meat, so you won't get any actual food, But I'll still shove the hot sauce down your throat, and you will die again! Ahahaha Ahahaha Ahahaha Whew! What's the matter, hot sauce got your feet? You went to the dance club just so you look normal when you bounce all over the place? Just tell people you're on ecstasy, they'll understand. Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Beat Attack! Thou shalt die.

My story's in the words that that are never said If you read between the lines, yeah, it's all there The devil's in the details, and I've got my share Think that I would scream, if I thought anyone would hear Bleeding, leaving, love is fleeting An abstract concept, abuse its meaning Misleading, no guidance, I never decided Abandoned, my family, my lovers, misguided With solitude comes solace, no answers, just bloodlust Nowhere to go, inside my head Can I even trust myself? Can I even trust myself (The funeral procession is drawing near And I've run to a place that's so far beyond fear I promised myself revenge before I die Even if the price of vengeance comes at my life) So much I want to say, hoping just to relate Leveraged by silence in order to save face Can't come to terms with what's been done There are things that can happen that one can't recover from Broken now and seething Til I'm sick, barely breathing Now history repeats itself, and my wounds will never mend Everyone I've ever trusted betrayed me in the end All of them With solitude comes solace, no answers, just bloodlust Nowhere to go, inside my head Can I even trust myself? Truly this is hell There is no karma. Villainy survives. There is no karma. Villainy thrives.

Oh Yeah I'm a slithering face I slid right off the head of a salesman from South Detroit And I'm on my way to your dinner plate And I'm gonna slither up there and eat all your food Then I'm gonna go hide in the Ladies' Room And Wait For a hot one to sit down on the crapper Then I'm gonna slither on up right onto her face and scream, "BEWARE OF SATANIC POTATOES!" And it's gonna freak her out so bad She's gonna catapult herself out of the country And then you'll know the horrors of the Slithering Face And then I'm gonna slide on up to the bar Slither over the bartender Order up a drink And then scream at 'em that I'm a face And he's gonna freak out and I won't have to pay Then I'm gonna drive, somehow To Iceland where the air smells like Jupiterian Blasphemy Then I'm gonna go down to the local swimsuit competition I'm gonna slither my way through the line And I'm gonna hide next to the sexiest swimsuit model I have ever seen And I'm gonna wait for her to get into a fight with someone And her mortal enemy is gonna say, "Why don't you shove it up your ass?" And that's when I'm gonna jump in her hand And she's gonna shove me up that fine little ass of hers Oh yes she is And there ain't nothing, There ain't nothing that Big John Studd can do about it! You understand where I'm coming from? I am the Slithering Face And soon you will bow to the masters Of the slithering face universe And I will turn planet Earth into Planet Slithering Face Oh Yeah Then, my master plan will be unhatched And the planet Slithering Face will be devoured by Unicron Beware of the face from South Detroit 'cause if you seen what this face can do, You don't wanna know what the rest of that Salesman can do But if he can burn down the Home Depot, he's alright with me My brain is on fire And my nipples have been laminated Now you won't see the slithering face coming, but it's coming to get ya! It's gonna get you! It's gonna steal you, it's gonna kidnap you, it's gonna hide you in the cut out bin Nobody buys records anymore, so you imagine how hard it is to find something in the record store Let alone the cut out bin? You're in trouble You're lost forever Well, not forever Maybe some Unitarian Hipster will buy ya Tryin to be all independent and stuff But don't you worry You don't know this But the slithering face may consume your home// for you when the night falls//in the back of your... The Slithering Face will take care of you Take care of the back of your dress too You just don't know it yet But I'm coming for you And there are no hobos on the stairway to Purgatory