Boomer Please (Buy My Apocalypse Songs)

While you’re standing around
Waiting for your grandkids to drown
Or maybe catch fire
After you’re dead and retired
You may as well listen
Get high and get pissed
To my apocalypse songs
Yes listen to this shit

Boomer please
I’m down on my knees
Everything has gone wrong
Buy my apocalypse songs

I’ve got profiles in discourage
From The Airplane to the bees
Failed stories faded glories
All you need is flowers and beads
From Stealers Wheel to The Troggs
From glitter glam to 60s mods
And there was surely Pussy Galore
Stick around you won’t get bored

Boomer please
I’m down on my knees
Everything has gone wrong
Buy my apocalypse songs

We didn’t stop the fire (rept)

Actual Apocalypse (2020)

Everyone’s a prepper now
Everyone’s a mutilated cow
Everyone is making vows
Everybody take a final bow

Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ Macs

One mask is for the disease
One mask is for the smoke
One mask is for avoiding police
Last toke before we’re broken

Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ macs

2020 that was the year
2020 the vision is clear
Gonna need four more beers
Drown the fire in my tears

Actual apocalypse
It isn’t fun like watching Mad Max
it isn’t clever like Oliver Sacks or
Insanely great like Steve Jobs’ macs

Ring around the platitudes
A pocket full of smug
Call & Response (rept. Many times)
East Coast Chorus
“Water water everywhere”

West Coast Chorus
“Ashes ashes”

Surfin’ Weatherman

You don’t need a weatherman to know we’re toast
Shit’s getting Biblical from coast to coast
I’m moving’ to Ohio where the chicks are groovy
Surfin’ with Mike Love we’re gonna make it a movie

(to the tune of Surfing USA as stolen from Chuck Berry’s Sweet Little 16)
And they’ll be surfing in Boston
And in the ruins of Pompei
Deep in the deserts of Kashmir
L.A. has gone cra-cra
They’ll all be grabbing their children
And all their property too
Tell everybody they’re surfing
And everything is cool

You don’t need a weatherman to know we’re toast
Everybody’s freakin’ from coast to coast
Going’ back to California where the chicks are pissed
They’ll kneel before my virtue when I raise my fist

And they’ll be shooting deniers
And oil CEOs
And all Republican Senators
And every Fox News host
They’ll all be grabbing their children
And all their property too
Tell everybody they’re surfing
And everything is cool

The Stepfather Of His Country

He was the stepfather of his country
But he raised the kids as his own
He gave them ears of corn — oodles of porn
But when they bought bad cocaine they earned his scorn

& when they all got older
He turned them into soldiers
Strapping tote bags to their shoulders
filled with weapons of mirth
It was all rather cheery
He read them Dr. Leary
Until those silly numbskulls
Decided to give birth

That was just the final straw
This was just what killed their pa
“Birth & death stay from my door
What do you think the porn was for?
To make you each one onanistic
Now I’ll get a bit fascistic”

One by one he ate his grandkids
Chowed them down like gutted pigs
Except one who was schizophrenic
& could produce some anaesthetic
Together they drifted into a coma
Singing gleeful songs of soma

& thus a world was born & died
All because of a stepdads pride
It takes a village to make things fair
Fuckin’ stepdad didn’t care

No Rest For The Precariat

Dumb easy feckless proles
Matrons danced the Watusi
Hoodlum malcontents did the stroll
Early tech geeks couldn’t find sushi
Assholes like me were relentlessly droll
Dads at home acted like il Duce
Middle class kids weren’t on the dole
Everyone bowled and went to the movies

But now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
For the Precariat
But now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
For the Precariat

Punters fighting punters
Owners sailing yachts
We can jump into the fire
But we cant afford new Reeboks
Nothing much is left to say
It’s cyberwar from day to day
Street distress from night to night
Play instruments of madcap blight

And now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
For the Precariat
But now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
Now there’s no rest
For the Precariat

The Smarter King Of Deliria

The girl at the ticket booth
Started wailing and weeping
With all the grieving
A body could hold seething
& the bouncer standing near to me
With cracked and violent idiot glee
Was swinging his fists randomly
Saying everybody gets in for free
But first you have to get passed me

Everyone from all around
saying stuff that sounds profound
& a smarter king of Deliria
That day was duly crowned
& if you listen a wee bit closer
To all the people in the ground
You’ll hear them screaming loud

& this is the sound

[Follow with Ornette Coleman meets Jimi Hendrix 8 minute jam]

Pulp (rept)

Pulp
Pulp
One slimy gulp
Cheese contrasts and compliments
A hint of leather methamphetamine crashing
Disconsolate poisoned rockabillies smashing
Or just a washed-up cabaret
Playing themes around a town without pity

Laughter as much as revulsion
Prayer beads of a tactless devotion
A goblin drinking from a guilty pump
Ectoplasm and it’s slithering amok
Could be Falstaff but I know it’s Puck
Get thee to puppetry to come unstuck

There’s something special in the grime
Lipstick smeared before a wife of crime
The whipped clean sheen of a mall
It’s only pulp but here have mine
Love ain’t like anthrax at all
It’s only pulp but give it time

It’s only pulp but give it time (rept)

Lip Sync Ships Stinker

Torn limb from limb by the mean girls at the orphanage
Glued back together in a spirited attempt at hoodoo bricolage
Went on a rampage of irreligious sacrilege
It didn’t matter to her a whit if it was Islam or written in Sanskrit

Lip syncs sink ships
Uncle Fester loves Trent Reznor
Polly the hijacker wants a cracker
Lip sync ships stinker

She sniffed the air tingling & tasting loves uneasy lunacy
Saw sorrowful vistas spotted with funereal urns
She rang a doorbell brought her neighbors an eerie shrieking doll
with that invasion they entered the dreamlands of the unwell

Lip syncs sink ships
Uncle Fester loves Trent Reznor
Polly the hijacker wants a cracker
Lip sync ships stinker

Infinite Troll

In this lightly sprinkled phase
Of quasi-historical banter
Do you like Phyllis Diller
More than Paul Kantner?

I challenge you to a high stakes game
Of triage and hospitalization
Nearly fatal illnesses terrible stillnesses
What have you got to lose then?
You have no friends and might just mend
The betting starts and some day it ends
That’s when the payoff takes its toll
Chased across the data in an infinite troll

And now I need an infinite rest (and that’s death)
Now I need an infinite rest (and that’s death)

Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Pink (2021)

Live free or dye your hair pink
The choice is easier than you think
There ain’t no choices just cacophony of voices
It’s the entire kitchen sink
So while we try to make sense
Ideas are being steamrolled by events
While we try to make sense
Ideas are being steamrolled by events

An intoxicating mixture of dogshit and fennel
Chowed down right there in the very kennel
A handful of bros and their surly bitches
Laughing in the faces of beheaded snitches
And if’n that don’t float your boat
See what the news is with your remote
Yes pandemonium comes to all seven seas
Pirates with nukes and the deadly bees

So take a moment to name your poison
To run with the wolves or hang with the boys ‘n’
Take a quick pic for an NFT fortune
Or just wait around for the next bus to Boston

The Enlightenment Entitlement

Yoginini Joes has a private shaman
She screams “don’t interrupt me” at her maid called Carmen
Who’s polishing the Paltrow vagina candle
When Yogini Jones flies off the handle
Shouting “don’t touch that talisman
It awaits the sacred phalisman
Unenlightened wretch you make me tired
I live in perfect peace and you’re fucking fired

The next thing you know Yoginini’s giving lectures
On how to stay positive — her bodyguard is Hector
Hector is a killer microdosing PCP
And Yoginini Jones is selling branded tantric pee
In a definite misunderstanding Yogini contacts me
I tell her I can’t help you dear — maybe try Flea
Flea invites him up to his place for wine and brie
But hw just won’t get behind the branded tantric pee

(repeat 3 times)
Enlightenment entitlement
Tantric pee is heaven sent
Buy Gwyneth’s sacred scent
With a tasteful dash of decadent

@thehonorable

A Brief Discourse

I got the word from the Bolshevik shaman
Who thinks he’s also a Hindu Brahmin
Drank Iboga from a patented cup
I just shrugged and said “Cool what’s for supper”
Around me people were puking up shit
Put it on youtube — it could be a hit
They cried and tugged and gouged at their eyes
Pluck them out was not that surprising

But back to the operatic scene at hand
The long and boring road from madness to bland
Like reeling in the years and bobbing for Snapple
Getting paid to keep it low down and subtle
When that “all hell” broke loose I was in the back

Brokering a truce and wearing a dunce cap
Trying hard for death with pills and soda
Hovering around for just one last Mimosa

Sneerbot

The edgelord built a sneerbot
He knew it would replace him
When it came time to upload his mind
He slipped away on a vacation
He hid out in Tangiers
Imagining he was Brion Gysin
But Edgelord pals can’t be trusted
And one day one slipped him some ricin

And we were laughing all the way to the bank
But we found the account was vacant
We tried everything from flash to bland
And to making the sex more blatant
We tried pitching to the British ravers
And to the sincere planet savers
And to the loony libertarians
Who didn’t do us too many favors

And the sneerbot said…
Haw haw haw they used to wipe there own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe there own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe there own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe there own asses

And the sneerbot said…
Look at this history of the human masses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe their own asses
And look at this dude tryin’ to boil his own eggs
Man those humans was on their last legs

Watched jocks and the hippies share a kegger
And give free oysters to the local beggar
I’ve seen this all with my very own eyes
Man these humans they take the fuckin’ prize

and the sneerbot said
Haw haw haw they used to wipe their own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe their own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe their own asses
Haw haw haw they used to wipe their own asses

Blank Panther Party

The universe is made of Crayola
I lost the ‘70s thanks to payola
I was a member of the Blank Panther Party
Ripped on coke and Bacardi

I learned to multiplex before I could add
I was a murderess before I was sad
My micro-mini is way below my knees
I ain’t no goddamn tease

I hit the racetrack I was loaded with cash
Was feeling guilty and a wee bit rash
Bet all my winnings on a system crash
And now I’ve gotta dash

The universe is made of Crayola
I lost the ‘70s thanks to payola
I was a member of the Blank Panther Party
Ripped on coke and Bacardi

Flabbergasted

Well I used to be disgusted
And then I tried to be amused
But now I’m just plain flabbergasted
At the depth of the abuse
And I’m not singing ‘bout a bad date
And I’m not singing ‘bout ya 2 minutes hate
I’m looking at the new level of crazy
With their hands wrapped around our fate

Does anybody remember the quantified life?
(R. Plant voice) Does anybody remember laughter?
Does anybody remember the balcony speeches?
Does anyone remember bloodletting and leeches?
Does anyone remember the days before then?
Lugubrious meetings with remake-able men
& Little Brother is watching one and other
So mark your turf — Then run for cover

Helter luxury Shelter

When you get to the bottom of the world
Just find some expensive California girls
Build a luxury home with all the convenience
Invite three billionaires and one digital genius

You’ll start a new race that’s probably pale
This human race is about to fail
Don’t worry ‘bout them you’ll soon set sail
From the launching pad in the desert sun
Who knew holocausts could be so much fun
In your helter luxury shelter
In your helter luxury shelter
Days of fire and desert swelter
In your helter luxury shelter

They Canceled Lenny Bruce

Do you remember when chaos was a state of play
Do you remember “punk rock is here to stay”
Do you remember when Sister Ray was très outré
When Bowie asked… “or even yesterday?”

I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce

I still have a glimmer of rascalinity
But now it’s one inch short of divinity
My jest is a million miles from infinity
I may be creepy crawling towards morbidity

I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce

I used to chatter to the birds and bees
Grabbed the branches and climbed the trees\
I’m picking fleas, man… all this disease
All that’s left now is to vomit and sneeze

I’m wearing deplatform shoes
I’ve got the fear monger blues
When you ain’t got somewhere
You got no choice to choose
And now I’m yesterday’s news
They canceled Lenny Bruce

Say The Right Thing

(first movement: Simcerely)

One more shot at glamour
Everybody’s dead in Alabama
Your status symbol’s your latest trauma
Don’t bring the noise bring the drama
Bring all the bad karma
& the Dalai Lama
& lay your burden down on me
Come on lay it down

Simcerely yours
You’re the boss
Just a lost cause
No remorse

(second movement: Draw the Curtain)

Last blast of spectacle
Termite feeding on the bloated corpse
I want a piece of the action
Fuck y’all and your way rad factions

Reemergence as the prince of naught
Truly ready for the triumph of the nil
All the hip kids need a reason to go on
Like ’73 when I saw Satyricon

The next 4 years were sexy and steamy
I thought I was Frederick Fellini
It was a blast it couldn’t last
I even wound up with my dick in a cast

Chump change with President Carter He said peanuts I said barter
A punk group was a total nonstarter
Drunken blonde was my perfect partner

She had a poster of Ulrike Meinhoff
She knew how to kick and she knew how to scoff
When the boys tried to climb on board
Her cutting words were as a sword so…

Last blast of spectacle
Termite feeding on the bloated corpse
I want a piece of the action
Fuck y’all and your way rad factions

(Third Movement Say The Right Thing)

I live in a world of perpetual crisis
We want to get out but we know what the price is
Death come fast
After this repast

They’re all certain
Bring down the curtain
They’re all certain
Bring down the curtain
They’re so young

They’re no fun
They’re so young
They’re no fun

Trite makes right
Uptight
Trite makes right
Uptight
Walk upright
Polite
Walk upright
Polite

I live in a world of perpetual crisis
We want to get out but we know what the price is
Death come fast
After this repast

It’s tasty in the bakery
Sticky in the mines
We’re trying to get out
Just tell me when it’s time

She’s got the bling
But she says the right thing
It don’t mean a thing
Of thee we sing

(rept with increased stridency)

Say the right thing