"Sixpack To Go!"

MOTORPSYCHO

Supercharged and ready to go.
Patience fails, it´s way too slow.
On the road in black and white.
Rope of flesh, just take a bite.
Breaking laws but still no cop.
Only slowing down for a quick pitstop.
It´s warm as hell but all is cool.
Nothing shakes a true road ghoul.

BUCKLE UP AND PRAY HEAD HONCHO
YOU HIT THE ROAD WITH A MOTORPSYCHO.
PREPARE YOURSELF FOR ACTION HIGH.
ONE RAD RIDE BEFORE IT´S GOODBYE.

Stoplight boogie, a roar from Hades.
You get no air, the pavement fades.
A ride that sucks your dentures out.
This is what it´s all about.
A foot of lead, no sign of fear.
One wrong decision and you´re out of here.
The screeching sound of Kelsey-Hayes.
Finishes of this chickenrace.

BUCKLE UP AND PRAY HEAD HONCHO
YOU HIT THE ROAD WITH A MOTORPSYCHO.
PREPARE YOURSELF FOR ACTION HIGH.
HEADING FOR DESTRUCTION IN FINEST STYLE.

SALT TONGUE

Y´know, I know a place, where God lost his ways.
You may not like it but it´s a matter of taste.
Just jump on the train, forget `bout the pain.
The girls in that bar they can drive you insane.

THE GAMBLING IS ON AND YOUR DECK WEIGHS A TON.
YOU CHEW LIKE A FREAK ON YOUR SWEAT-SALT TONGUE.
YOU SWEAT LIKE A PIG AND YOU WANT TO CHANGE STYLE.
IT CAN´T GET MUCH WORSE SO TRY THE DICE FOR AWHILE.

You´ve come this far, to this sleazy bar.
So sit your ass down and be just who you are.
That´s a pretty good beer and we´ve made it clear.
You´ve got one thing to lose and you´ll lose it here.

THE GAMBLING IS ON AND YOUR DECK WEIGHS A TON.
YOU CHEW LIKE A FREAK ON YOUR SWEAT-SALT TONGUE.
YOU SWEAT LIKE A PIG AND YOU WANT TO CHANGE STYLE.
IT CAN´T GET MUCH WORSE SO TRY THE DICE FOR AWHILE.

When he lays them out you will soon find out.
The bar´s an illusion and it´s your life that it´s about.
You were on the dole in a financial hole.
Now don´t you worry cuz he´s got your soul.

THE GAMBLING IS ON AND YOUR DECK WEIGHS A TON.
YOU CHEW LIKE A FREAK ON YOUR SWEAT-SALT TONGUE.
YOU SWEAT LIKE A PIG AND YOU WANT TO CHANGE STYLE.
IT CAN´T GET MUCH WORSE SO TRY THE DICE FOR AWHILE.

LEGALIZE CRIME

I just can´t help it but I think it´d be swell.
Rot in the street and noone would care to tell.
The nuns fucked around and the cops were on crack.
A world in a state that was far beyond fucked.

SPREAD THE WORD THAT ALL IS COOL.
IT´S SAFE TO BREAK THE RULES.
THEM DOWN IN THE TANK JUST KILLING TIME.
BRING THEM THE NEWS OF LEGAL CRIME.

I just don´t get it who needs the police.
Sick people reign and they´re still walking free.
Look around there´s a crime in the raw.
Who needs rules when there is no law.

SPREAD THE WORD THAT ALL IS COOL.
IT´S SAFE TO BREAK THE RULES.
THEM DOWN IN THE TANK JUST KILLING TIME.
BRING THEM THE NEWS OF LEGAL CRIME.

I may be stupid but I think we´d get by.
The way I am I would never kill a guy.
But lock me up feed me distrust.
I´ll stab the first hooker with a kingsize bust.

SPREAD THE WORD THAT ALL IS COOL.
IT´S SAFE TO BREAK THE RULES.
THEM DOWN IN THE TANK JUST KILLING TIME.
BRING THEM THE NEWS OF LEGAL CRIME.

SUPERBEE

This devil is ready to explode on the strip.
It´s worn out tyres won´t get any grip.
Eyes staring out at the edge of the hood.
Driving a car has never felt so good.
Stripped from all nonsense and built to win.
When comfort is out, performance is in.

I PUMP THE GAS AS I TURN THE KEY
TO FIRE UP THE ENGINE IN MY BLACK SUPERBEE.

Pedal to the floor, hands on the wheel.
Got to shift gear but i´m too numb to feel.
Shaking from the tension and wet from the heat.
It feels like i´m being pushed through the seat.
Deaf from the Hemi in this late sixty-nine.
The essence of power and beauty combined.

SLICING THE STREET THE SOUND OF THE FREE
THE ROAR OF THE LUNGS IN MY BLACK SUPERBEE.

SURRENDER TO SIN

I´m troublebound and there´s nothing I can do.
I´m on a screw-up path just breaking things in two.
Ditched my beers but somehow wound up drunk.
I guess it all comes down to being a punk.

YEAH I MIGHT ASWELL ACCEPT IT, I JUST CAN´T WIN.
I´M GONNA DO IT FULL-ON AND SURRENDER TO SIN.

I´ll just take it as it comes without obligations.
And try to struggle on through all tribulations.
The rent´s not payed but I get no panic attack.
I couldn´t care less cuz I still got my sixpack.

YEAH I MIGHT ASWELL ACCEPT IT, I JUST CAN´T WIN.
I´M GONNA DO IT FULL-ON AND SURRENDER TO SIN.

So what can you do when you´re stuck with a beergut.
And all you ever read is low-grade smut.
Not pretty and with the dirtiest mind.
Living in the stripjoints and a little behind.

I might be the epitome of trailer trash.
And it doesn´t look sexy with a scrotum rash.
But it´s cool you see, this is the land of the free.
And sin is just a vent and it works for me.

BLOWN TO BITS

You hurt me bad and I´ve found a way to pay back
I´ve seen you enough times with that mudpack.
I love the thought of you searching for every little bit
That you know that I did it just for the hell of it.

IT FEELS PRETTY SAFE TO WIELD DYNAMITE STICKS
THAT YOUR LIMBS WILL FLOW THE ODDS ARE LOW
AND YOU KNOW THAT YOU´LL BE BLOWN TO BITS.

You never thought I´d do it but I´ll prove you wrong.
I can´t wait for the moment when the fuse is on.
Yeah, just taste the pain of my past five years.
And mix the blood with your guilty tears.

IT FEELS PRETTY SAFE TO WIELD DYNAMITE STICKS
THAT YOUR LIMBS WILL FLOW THE ODDS ARE LOW
AND YOU KNOW THAT YOU´LL BE BLOWN TO BITS.

CRACKHOUSE BONANZA

I came on too strong but I shine on the bike.
A crackhouse bonanza you know what it´s like.
Pigs from the left and feds from the right.
Free as foam, I cruise through the night.

Slick, strong and stoned the journey is on.
All thoughts of that mess and cops they are gone.
Peak of all peaks, an ultimate ride.
Some kicks are good but this one´s bona fide.

CRACKHOUSE BONANZA IS LEFT BEHIND
I´M ON THE ROAD WITH A FUCKED-UP MIND.

I rev up the engine, the stars are my guides.
Haven´t seen people for too many miles.
Forward to freedom or roll on to death.
Tijuana here I come, lay up the meth.

Gliding so perfect, I control the zone.
The roar in my head is setting the tone.
Crossing the border with shark-like eyes.
I´m out of fuel but it still feels nice.

CRACKHOUSE BONANZA IS LEFT BEHIND
I´M ON THE ROAD WITH A FUCKED-UP MIND.
BIG TROUBLE IN THE HOUSE OF CRACK.
I´M ON THE ROAD AND I WON´T GO BACK.

PETROLEUM

I´ve been put down and been the target of scorn.
So many times I´ve cursed the day I was born.
Tasted every taste and done all to the max.
I´ve survived this long thanks to pills and twelvepacks.
It´s all been hazy but one thing I know.
No use to fight it when you´ve sunk so low.
Can´t take the pressure so I bring out the torch.
Found my dead girlfriend on the front porch.

THAT´S WHAT DID IT FOR ME, THAT´S WHEN I LIT THE FLAME.
THAT´S WHEN PETROLEUM HELPED ME TO GET AFTERLIFE FAME.
I GOT BACK TO ONE, GOT RID OF ALL THAT´S BEEN WITH A MATCH AND GASOLINE...

Yeah I was put down and the target of scorn.
Sure I´m a coward but I don´t think you´ll mourn.
The tastes I tasted was just to get away.
To escape the pain and block out the things you´d say.
I stand here ready with a can of sauce.
Self-inflicted combustion and you´re the cause.
A gruesome sight but I won´t feel the flames.
The fire is the only thing that cleans the stains.

THAT´S WHAT DID IT FOR ME, THAT´S WHEN I LIT THE FLAME.
THAT´S WHEN PETROLEUM HELPED ME TO GET AFTERLIFE FAME.
I GOT BACK TO ONE, GOT RID OF ALL THAT´S BEEN WITH A MATCH AND GASOLINE...

ZIPPO QUEEN

That chrome thing was swingin´
She lit it with a pout.
But she put it in her pocket
And forgot to put it out.
That woman gave me fire
And wrestled with the best.
You can call me a liar
But her legs look pretty messed.

THE ZIPPO WAS SHINING
AND SO WAS HER SMILE
AND ALL THAT SHE SMOKES
IT WAS LIT UP WITH STYLE.
YOU´VE GOT TO ADMIT IT
IT WOULD LOOK PRETTY SICK
IF THE CUTEST OF GIRLS
WOULD BE ARMED WITH A BIC.

She swinged it so classy.
An extension of her arm.
She was raised on top fuel.
And cramful of charm.
Crippled by coolness.
But on top of my bill.
She won´t knit a sweater.
She´s got other skills.

THE ZIPPO WAS SHINING
AND SO WAS HER SMILE
AND ALL THAT SHE SMOKES
IT WAS LIT UP WITH STYLE.
YOU´VE GOT TO ADMIT IT
IT WOULD LOOK PRETTY SICK
IF THE CUTEST OF GIRLS
WOULD BE ARMED WITH A BIC.

CRAMP YOUR STYLE

We´ve been out for so long, now we´re back on the bus.
On top of the posters and the target of fuzz.
We used to be losers but now we´re so cool.
And you come to the shows though we break every rule.

WAIT A SECOND, LET IT TAKE AWHILE.
WE NEED SOME TIME TO CRAMP YOUR STYLE.
YOUR IMAGE IS GONE AND ALL THAT JAZZ.
YOUR STYLE IS CRAMPED WE CRACKED YOUR ASS.

A bunch of old farts, no cool t-shirt design.
Banned from the skateboards and way out of line.
Now we´re praised by some bozo and hailed as the best.
So you´re buying our records though we fail every test.

WAIT A SECOND, LET IT TAKE AWHILE.
WE NEED SOME TIME TO CRAMP YOUR STYLE.
YOUR IMAGE IS GONE AND ALL THAT JAZZ.
YOUR STYLE IS CRAMPED WE CRACKED YOUR ASS.

You´ve learned all the lyrics and you know every chord.
Though we can´t fuckin´ skate and we can´t ride a board.
We´re gaining a following that´s more like a sect.
And you put up our posters though we look like Accept.

WAIT A SECOND, LET IT TAKE AWHILE.
WE NEED SOME TIME TO CRAMP YOUR STYLE.
YOUR IMAGE IS GONE AND ALL THAT JAZZ.
YOUR STYLE IS CRAMPED WE CRACKED YOUR ASS.
YEAH.

FRIDGEKING

You´re so cool but that´s OK.
Guess you can be in no other way.
Is that the smell of long-lost hope.
Or your brand new perfurmed soap.
You are so weak but look so strong.
When you´re alone the calm is gone.
So in a way you are Jack Frost.
Big time chill king of the lost.

Hell, I can´t see how you survive.
How can you live without a drive.
A wasteland man with see through soul.
Why do you pretend to be so cold.
So here you sit and look like ice.
Both T and Cube are full of lies.
Thank you I´m fine I need no show.
Cuz my pulse is always low.

SUCK ME DRY FROM THE HEAT INSIDE.
SUCK ME DRY WITH PATHETIC LIES.
SUCK ME DRY POKE ME IN THE EYE.
SUCK ME DRY FRIDGEKING GOODBYE.

Superman on a valium trip.
Cool and calm but your armpits drip.
What you give is what you get.
And what you get ain´t worth a shit.
So here you sit and look like ice.
Both T and Cube are full of lies.
Thank you I´m fine I need no show.
Cuz my pulse is always low.

SUCK ME DRY FROM THE HEAT INSIDE.
SUCK ME DRY WITH PATHETIC LIES.
SUCK ME DRY POKE ME IN THE EYE.
SUCK ME DRY FRIDGEKING GOODBYE.

DOWN AT THE STOUP

I´ll be down at the Stoup where the cool´s hanging out.
Downing four pints and a fifth without doubt.
And I talk to the guys and I know that´s unwise.
I say my team is gonna win and I know I tell lies.

It´s where the winos roam but this place is my home.
The bartenders drunk and the beer´s half foam.
But the game is ok and I hear what they say.
With my pals at the table I´ll stay all day.

NOONE KNOWS I´M BAD

I´ve got this secret that noone really knows.
If wimpness is a potion then I got a heavy dose.
People think I´m a loser and a bore.
But in my home I´m hard to the core.

I´m drinking in my room and I´m surfing on the net.
Acting macho and the keyboard´s getting wet.
This room is my playgroud where I set the tone.
In here a dork can be bad to the bone.

I KICK THE CAT AND I LIGHT `EM UP.
POURING VODKA INTO MY SODA POP.
I CRANK UP THE STEREO TO UPSET MY DAD.
BUT OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE NOONE KNOWS I´M BAD.

I wear my leather when the door is locked.
And dreams of stealing girls from that football jock.
Guess I have to stick with my girlie mag.
And let everyone think that I´m a fag.

I KICK THE CAT AND I LIGHT `EM UP.
POURING VODKA INTO MY SODA POP.
I CRANK UP THE STEREO TO UPSET MY DAD.
BUT OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE NOONE KNOWS I´M BAD.

SHUT UP*

Well apathy's got a hold on me
And it won't let go
Tell me your problems, I'll tell you mine
Motherfucker you're gonna know
Well I can go for a change
Go for a job
Tell me about your rock band
Tell me about your job

SHUT UP
SHUT UP
SHUT UP

Well Tommy's too young
Bobby's too drunk
I only know one note
Chris needs a watch to keep time
We'll never find the time to vote
And I can for a change
Go for a job
Tell me about your girlfriend
Tell me about your job

SHUT UP
SHUT UP
SHUT UP

THE PACE THAT KILLS

This car is a jinx and that´s why it´s mine.
I need that tension to pass the time.
At maximum speed on a curving road.
That´s when you live just go, go, go.

A BASIC URGE, THE CHEAPEST OF THRILLS
I WON´T SLOW DOWN CUZ IT´S THE PACE THAT KILLS.

Your life is a dead end, your time is up.
Strip your car and just rev it up.
Nothing gets you going like mortal fear.
And screaming tyres when you forget to steer.

A BASIC URGE, THE CHEAPEST OF THRILLS
I WON´T SLOW DOWN CUZ IT´S THE PACE THAT KILLS.

You tear up the asphalt and go full tilt.
It´s bad for the trees but why feel guilt ?
You´ve got a 426 and four on the floor.
You´re doing 100 but you know there´s more.

All music and lyrics by Puffball except * by The Replacements.

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