@ALBUM: Post Historic Monsters Artist: Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine 1993 Chrysalis Records Produced by Carter USM and Simon Painter All selections by Jim Bob and Fruitbat. Personnel: Jim Bob Fruitbat ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: 2 Million Years B.C. ---Instrumental--- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: The Music That Nobody Likes Fee fi fo fum I smell the blood of Nazi scum I want my dad and I want my mum A Sherman tank and a load of guns If love is the answer What was the question And can it cure my indigestion baby? Out of the frying pan Into the frying pan Back to the drawing board And I'll draw you a diagram We'll put on the kettle for some tea and some sympathy Infamy! Infamy! They've all got it in for me If love is the answer Then what was the question And can it solve the traffic congestion baby? Carry on, carry on you've got nothing to lose You've dirtied your pants and you can't afford shoes To stand up and fight stand up for your rights And dance to the music that nobody likes It goes ba ba ba ba Out of the mouths of babes bearing arms Come the terrified sounds of a baby's alarm At the kidnap and rape of his family and friends Who've been taken away to be ethnically cleansed And the banners and badges and your anarchist friends Say "Apocalypse Now man!" And "Never again!" And I know the following smut should be censored OK But this shit is fucked as they say in the USA ANd they say it in Mexico, London and Jericho Berlin and Birmingham, Belfast and Tokyo Amsterdam, Vietnam, Iran, Afghanistan Disneyland, Narnis, former Yugoslavia You siree boy there's nothing worth living for But it really ain't worth dying for So jsut say three hail Jesus and Mary Chains Two how's your fathers, give your thanks to God And say goodnight Jim Bob Goodnight Jim Bob ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Mid Day Crisis Then I saw his face and I was a believer It was the automatic rifles The Nintendos and Segas And the half a dozen dead disciples And like many a fruitcake before him He claimed to be the son of God But like many a fruitcake before him Maybe he really was CHORUS Hot dogs! Toss! Mid day crisis! And meanwhile a black Maria Leaves the hallowed halls of justice Under a hall of phlegm and fire >From the assembled vigilantes and uncles CHORUS Ippa dippa dation no operation Too many people at the station Get in line behind the nation The rest of life's fall-out patients Who wake up every morning smiling Stretching, yawning, breakfast-timing Out in alices, toasted brown Then the mid day crisis comes around And no, I'm not a believer ANd no, I don't want to see your leaflets I lsot my faith with my taste for sausages and hats And no you can't come in for tea and biscuits CHORUS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Cheer Up, It Might Never Happen Cheer up, it might never happen Drive-by shootings on the streets of Clapham Jackboots booting right across the map And daddy's gone 'a looking with his pistol packin' mama And God didn't make the little green apples With the Halloween grin and the shaving tackle Another worrying thing for the grans to grapple As the earth quakes, shakes and rolls and rattles on CHORUS And if the whole world is a stage A kaleidoscope of lights and sound You can take my Equity card away And burn the theatre to the ground Cheer up, it might never happen kid Although I think it probably just did The Christmas speech was a porno vid A topless picture on the British quid Jack and jill went off the cliff Contract killed in a lovers' tiff While Ben and Bill smoke a comic spliff Tom and Jerry built to a moronic riff CHORUS Sack the actors and the clowns Back to practice paper rounds Sweeping leaves and walking dogs Daily deeds and bob a jobs Sitting babies salting snow Helping ladies cross the road Washing cars, recycling tins Catching falling stars and things Helping old folk corner shop Little things that mean a lot A fairytale-like end to violence Through jumble sales and sponsored silence Stop the world I wanna get back on I want to learn to love the bomb And have it tattooed across my gut The immortal words cheer up It might never happen to you kid Although I think it probably just did ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Stuff the Jubilee! I'm not an anarchist but I know a man who is he composed this masterpiece about the nouveau stinking riche Of cabbages and future kings and marriage guiding councelings Of geratrics losing hope in Stephen Patrick's overcoat Excuse my rudery but stuff the jubilee! It's the last tango at the palace Christopher goes down on Alice A make up girl from Salfridges unaccustomed to such priveleges Selected for the purposes of His Majest's secret services The kind of secret services usually confined to circuses Excuse my rudery but stuff the jubilee! Princess A to Princess Bea and all their work for charity Every royal lion's head on every boiled and frying egg And every modding polo team in Hallo! bloody magazine And if you feel this story lacks the royal seal on candle wax Real to reals of scurry facts of dodgy deal and income tax String me up from Traitor's Gate stick my head upon a stake And if you feel this story sucks that's probably because I made it up I didn't really hitch a lift to Windsor Castle bearing gifts And I can prove it wasn't me I was on a stage in Germany I've always loved the Queenie Mum her daughters and her daughter's sons >From Princess A to Princess Bea And all the Royal Family Stuff the jubilee! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: A Bachelor for Baden Powell Join the cubs See the world Pay your subs Meet the girls Sell your toys Be reborn They lvoe a boy in uniform 37 wasted years Closeting his greatest fears Still in shorts and eating jelly He used to come and fix our telly CHORUS Akala, Akala I will do my best Akala, you'll have heart failure Get your hands out of my vest The oldest joker in the pack Knew how to fold a union jack Bought me chocolate, cakes and meats All the Cadbury's flakes that I could eat You're a bachelor for Baden Powell And you don't know where I've been Take your spatula and your bathing towel Andgo swear your allegiance to the queen You'll get no badge for touching me Bad health or inefficiency Halitosis poison breath Or scaring little lonely boys to death Akala, Akala I will do my best Akala, Akala You've got to get me off your chest Akala, Akala! I think it's time to go Hayla Shayla, see you later I'm ony 9 years old and the answers NO! You're a bachelor for Baden Powell And you don't know where I've been So take your spatula and your bathing towel And go and swear your allegiance to the queen ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Spoilsports Personality of the Year When you've been watching the world die all day And channel hopping won't make it go away Put on your shoes come and share the blues with me This skinny swollen kiddie covered in flies His dinner stolen by the government, dies A cash collection will be organized You see This is reality I'm sorry dear To be the spoilsports personality for another year War is just a hobby for the selfish fear Busy bodies who've got nothing else to do I cwould get these cheap skates off the ice for you If I could But this is reality I'm so sorry dear To be the spoilsports personality for another year ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Suicide Isn't Painless Suicide isn't painless It hurts like hell It's set aside for the famous a little suicide sells Nothing lasts forever but nothing ever did It's big but it's not clever and it's really not that big So no more tears you're a big boy now We'll have a few more beers We'll wort it out somehow ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Being Here Don't kiss me quick I'm about to be sick all over my favourite shoes If you pin back my tongue with a stapling gun It won't stop me from singing the blues I'm as drunk as a skunk and the National Front Have kicked me all over this bar I'd walk round to Ian's house but Ian's house is too far The pinch and the punch were for the first of the month The slap for the end of the year The stab and the kick were for being too quick And the rest was just for being here ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Evil He is the people's post and all the people know it They've read his published stories in public lavatories In town and country locals he's Mr. Antisocial His violence does the talking those boots weren't made for walking He's a coldblooded vulture he won't respect your culture He's nothing like your good self he's come to burn your bookshelf He'll gobble up your children destroy what you've been building And when you're left to suffer he'll vivisect your mother He is the Lord and master of every war and disaster Every disease and famine, a place of cunning planning He was in Vietnam he is the Ku Kluts Klan He was the child catcher he gave us Margaret Thatcher One day the Devil was in high good humour for he had created a mirror which made everything good and beautiful reflected in it shrink to almost nothing, and everything bad and ugly stand out more clearly than ever. All the little imps who went to the Devil's school ran around with the mirror until there was nowhere and no one that had not been distorted in it. The Devil was much amused, and the mirror itself grinned wickedly. Then the little imps decided to fly up to heaven and make fun of God and his angles. The higher they carried the mirror, the more it grinned, until it was shaking so hard with laughter that it slipped out of their hands and fell to earth, fwhere it broke into millions of pieces. And then it caused even more trouble than before, because all the tiny splinters, scarcely the size of a grain of sand, went flying around the world, and whenever a splinter flew into anyone's eye, it had the same power as the whole mirror, and made people see everything distorted. Sometimes a splinter of glass even entered someone's heart, which was worst of all, for then that person's heart was turned to ice. And by his royal appointment there'll be no more enjoyment Thre will be no more bandera no more service will be rendered The shops will not be open until he sees you broken you've got to give him credit the poor man's Norman Tebbitt Cruelty without beauty, beyond the call of duty And beyond my understanding I find it so demanding I wish I could forget it and be more apathetic It's just it bothers me so how anyone could be so EVIL ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Commercial Fucking Suicide Part I ---Instrumental--- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Sing Fat Lady Sing This is not a love song and it serves no use But if you want to sing along with some verbal abuse It might make you feel better and it's good for the soul Take 4 letters and let's rock 'n' roll Are those 3 sixes on the side of your head? Shall I get the crucifixes, are you already dead? Should I call the mortician, you're a bag of bones You should audition for the Rolling Stones Sing fat lady sing Make it loud and clear and strong Make it swing, we wanna see you swing And send the next joker in when you've gone The undertakers and the bailiffs and the heavy mob Are the only people round here with a steady job Everything is sponsored from the sea to the ssky This chorus will be brough to you by EMI You had 2 piano lessons and a scholarship And you should never mix music with politics With an IQ of maybe only one or two You became a politician, what else could you do? Sing fat lady sing Sing it loud, sing it clear and sing it strong Give in for God's sake just give in And send the next joker in when you've gone Sing fat lady sing Sing it loud, sing it clear and sing it strong Give in for God's sake just give in ANd send the next joker in when you've gone This is not a love song And it serves no use But if you want to sing along with some verbal abuse It might make you feel better and it's good for the soul So take 4 letters and let's rock 'n' roll ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Travis I'm not racist but I am I served my time in Vietnam I've got three jobs This is one Sometimes I wish I'd kept my gun This country's going down the tubes I can't afford to pay my dues Unless you've got some sponsorship For Christ sakes buddy Don't get sick Don't grow old Don't be poor Do what you're told Yeah! Are you from Europe? Well so am I I came here in 1955 Half American, half asleep Some day a rain will come and wash the streets The CIA, the KGB IUt's all the same conspiracy The whole damn country's on the skids You better tell your kids Don't get sick Don't grow old Don't be poor or underpriveleged Do exactly what you're told Keep the motor running Until we reach our destination The grim reaper isn't coming he's been otherwise detained With Apocalypse practice and his other occupation Behind the wheel of his taxi cab that's driving me insane They took 4000 headers on a bus ride Left 'em dribbling at the seaside Where the sun would keep them warm Give a guy a uniform They live out on the freeway now They're waiting till your car breaks down Don't take the American dream to bed One of these days you'll wake up dead ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Lean on Me I Won't Fall Over One of these days you'll get away from London town Causing chaos and delay on the underground I'll read your letter as I pass the time Stuck in a tunnel on the Hammersmith and City Line I'll hurry home a little bored but still alive Unplug the phone to keep the outside world outside I'll take some aspirin and I'll take myself to bed You'll be gone and you'll be dead All because I never said CHORUS Lean on me I won't fall over I'm made of steel and stone cold sober If you feel the need come over Lean on me I won't fall over You're off the wagon you were never really on Chasing the dragon like you're Saint fucking George or someone Stop punching walls don't cut yourself Shift some buden onto somebody else CHORUS Am I made of wood am I too arrogant? To be the last of the good samaritans? Stop punching walls don't cut yourself Try shifting some burden onto someone else Don't give up hope if you think you can't cope We should keep in touch if it gets too much Have faith in yourself for the sake of your health Stop sniffing glue try something real Confide in your friends you'll by in the end If nothing else works have you tried the church? I didn't want to be so dozy darling I should've promised you a rosy garden And told you life is sweet, stick around enjoy it Flush that stupid nonsense down the toilet And lean on me I won't fall over ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Lenny and Terence (Sexy Daytime Radio Mix) Don't open the box Take the money Take it to the shops Where we can spend it all honey On 90s memorabilia and rock 'n' roll records And experience the genius of Terence and Leonard Send them victorious Happy and glorious Long to reign over us In the studio for us My eyes have seen the glory of The legend and the story of Feather cropped and blow dried hair Clver clogs and Lionel Blairs And I won't be watching TV anymore I'll poke my TV eyes out the door Nail my other records to the record shelf En;lighten, educate and entertain myself Listening to the sounds of Lenny and Terence ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ @SONG: Under the Thumb and Over the Moon I'm in love with my wife Double beds, the Lemonheads, scrambled eggs and life Let's make it open season on all the racists And the bigots and their chums And not just as a reason for a Christmas number one CHORUS We're not the world We don't belong We're boy meets girl Boy writes stupid song The words are dumb and so's the tune Under the thumb Over the moon And if this sentimental silly love song makes you choke You can block your ears up and stick your fingers down your throat Because I don't care it's a beautiful morning And if the sun shines sometimes...well... CHORUS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------ Eric Wincentsen 267@ef.gc.maricopa.edu Glendale Community College Glendale, Arizona "Let's get the baby high!!"