When he was young you'd not find him doing well in school, His mind would turn unto the waters. Always the focus of adolescent ridicule, He has no time for farmer's daughters. Alienated from the clique society, A lonely boy finds peace in fishing. His mother says "John this is not the way life's supposed to be." "Don't you see the life that you are missing?" And he says... When I grow up I want to be, One of the harvesters of the sea. I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman. Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea. He sets out on a dark May morning . To bring his catch back to this small community. He doesn't see the danger dawning. Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled, The fog rolled in it started raining. "The starboard bow." "Oh my God we're going down!" The do not hear his frantic mayday. And he says When I grow up I want to be, one of the harvesters of the sea. I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman. "I'll live and die a fisherman." Calling John the Fisherman.
When I woke up this mornin' I felt a pang. I was hungerin' for some apple pie. Stumble in the bathroom, hung my hog a little bit. Washed the sleep out of my eye. Oh yeah, it's gonna be a fine day. Scratched myself a bit. Poured me out a bowl-a corn chex. Closest thing I could find to apple pie. Lingerin' taste of toothpaste Made the milk go down a bit funny. But you know, them chex they do satisfy. Oh yeah, this'll be a fine day. So, after my mornin' rise-n-shine and eat-n-clean. Had my mind set to hit them streets. Drizzle from the night left cold puddles out. Had my black stomp-boots on my feet. It's my day. Since I was in kneepants my pop had tried to make me realize. If I set my mind down to it I could be a big man in the public eye. So with my big blue collar on, I set out to find the easy way. What an ice cold bath it was when I found you had to pay to play. To taste the taste it's a tease that never would subside. The taste is strong but soured by my learned eyes. Well, if a woodchuck could chuck wood, he'd get down on his knees to pray. This little snappy boy might see the light this ground hog's day.
Through the door it slithers in, Accompanied by its peers. Always groveling for attention, While no one really hears. In its mind it's full of wit And quite the social king. It plants itself among the rest, to give its deadly sting. It's just a matter of opinion. Further now there's a man of taste. Of talent and precision. To work and strive at his artform. Has been his life's decision. The stage is set. The perfect show Is put before the mass. Only to be ridiculed by some slimy, pompous ass. It's just a matter of opinion.
By the light of the lamp I sit to type-my notes on tab at my side I don't see the sun much these days A fluorescent tan covers my hide How much impact shall I have this time? My goal today is to reac the deadline I write between the lines I deal with fantasy I report the facts Give them to me, please Ham and egg sald on white bread keeps me company on nights like this A pack of metholated cigarettes keeps my air nice and thick When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box Get out of my way I've got something to say The pulse is beating louder now The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each Tik, tik, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys My social life is at an end so it seems to be Why don't I trample on your lawn today? I'll take skies of blue, turn over skies of grey I write between the lines I deal with fantasy I am the pressman Acknowledge me Mother always told me never stray too far from home The little lady said, "Boy, you'll never have to be alone, Because," You build with fountain pen You create the memory stain You are the pressman Stand up straight, boy
Jellikit I just want to satisfy you I would like to rectify you Pay no attention to what you've heard This mediocrity is so absurd. But I won't listen to erratic advice Don't make me ask you nice I just want to satisfy you I would like to contemplate you Perhaps sometime we'll irritate you I won't listen to sparratic advice Don't make me ask you twice I just want to satisfy you Jellikit x 3 I just want to satisfy you Jellikit I just want to satisfy you Jellikit x 6
"I remember as it were a meal ago" Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter may have nestled its way into his mighty throat. Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank down the cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling machine. Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator. Tommy the cat had many a story to tell, but it was a rare occasion such as this that he did. "She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit. The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days. The sight was beyond belief. Many a head snapped for double, even triple, takes as this vivacious feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway where the most virile of the young tabbys were known to hang out. They hung in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in one place... and that was O'malley's Alley. The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended) but not even a muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered up into the heart of the alley. She knew what she wanted. She was lookin' for that stud bull, the he cat. And that was me. Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto thee... Say baby do you wanna lay down by me"
You can have a lolly pop a candy bar a jelly bean. I'll buy you a rainbow to hang above your door. It's pudding time. Laughter is a sweet You can't put a price on. When laughter's all gone Daddy won't buy you more. It's pudding time. It's pudding time children. Money money money To buy you things. Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring. Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall All the kings horses and all the kings men Couldn't put Humpty together again. San Francisco bay the Striped bass are dying. But you're gonna get That brand new bike Oh joy It's pudding time It's pudding time children.
It was a weekend's eve, I had sex on my breath I was lookin' for somethin' to see. With a borrowed black leather and my best fishin' hat. Well it was just Wendy O. and me. We called old Swamp Up on the telephone And said we was comin' on Down to pick him up and then, he said, "Hey Swampy, me and Greeny'll come along - But only if we can bring a friend." "His name is Harold." I said "Okay." Now, we had a Swamper, Greeny, Wendy O, Stanley, Harold of the Rocks and me. We hopped into my dart And headed for the nightbreak To see a man they call Schooly D. Harold he's a friendly guy. He rambles on and on. He'll talk the balls off a rhinosaurus. fact is he just doesn't make much sense. Well Stan said "This guy's pretty bizarre Gus." Harold of the Rocks. I saw Harold at a party Trouzy threw Late one night. I said, "hey man, Do you remember me?" He said, "O' course I do Snapdad and Let me tell ya right 'Bout now I'm lit Up like an ol' Christmas tree." Hey bro you know I'd like to thank you once Again for let'n me Hang with ya' all across The bay. when I Look back at that night I get me a Warm spot across my heart." Then he shook my hand, and walked away. That's teh last I Seen of Harold. Harold of the Rocks. So in the end, Swamper and Greeny Finally succumb to The ways of Harold. And in doing so Each gave just a little bit Of his soul away. Wnat a couple of dumbshits.
Hello all you boys and girls. I'd like to take you to the inside world. It's quite an irregular place to be. But never fear you're safe with me. Well, maybe. Golden hair of macrame' Against the face that's cut from stone. The white porcelain is screaming Ayee Thank God the the boy is not alone. I don't believe in Santa Claus. I don't belive in spite. I have no use for beauty dolls. Especially on this night. I don't believe in miracles. I don't belive in lies. I don't belive in hologram For I am the Frizzle Fry. Andy's painting green again, This time they might take him away. When Barrington starts to breathe again. It way just take us all away. I don't believe in charity. I don't believe in sin. And if you don't believe in me, We'll play this tune over again. I don't believe in pinochle And I don't beleive I'll try. I do believe in Captain Crunch For I am the Frizzle Fry. Yes I am the Frizzle Fry.
The lyrics were compiled by Darren Jones.