@ALBUM: Dead Kennedys - Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables REMARK: The lyrics of the song "Viva Las Vegas" are missing in this file @SONG: Kill the Poor Words - Biafra * Music - Biafra/Ray Efficiency and progress is ours once more Now that we have the Neutron bomb It's nice and quick and clean and gets things done Away with excess enemy But no less value to property No sense in war but perfect sense at home... The sun beams down on a brand new day No more welfare tax to pay Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light Jobless millions whisked away At last we have more room to play All systems go to kill the poor tonite Gonna Kill kill kill Kill the poor Kill the poor ... Tonite Behold the sparkle of champagne The crime rate's gone Feel free again O' life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White Jane Fonda on the screen today Convinced the liberals it's okay So let's get dressed and dance away the night While they Kill the poor Kill the poor ... Tonite @SONG: Forward to Death Words and music by 6025 I don't need your way of life I can't stand your attitudes I can do without your strife I don't need this fucking world I don't need this fucking world This world brings me down Gag with every breath This world brings me down I'm looking forward to death It seems so unreal to me So much hate and so mouch pity I can't take another day It's such a bore It gets me really sore I don't need this fucking world I don't need this fucking world This world brings me down Gag with every breath This world brings me down I'm looking forward to death I'm looking forward to death @SONG: When ya Get Drafted Words and Music by Biafra Are you believing the morning papers? War is coming back in style There's generals here, advisors there, And Russians nibbling everywhere The chessboard's filling up with red We make more profits when we blow off their heads Economy is looking bad Let's start another war when ya get drafted Fan the fires of racist hatred We want total war when ya get drafted Drooling fingers Panic buttons Playing with missiles like they're toys There's easy money, easy jobs Especially when you build the bombs That blow big cities off the map Just guess who profits when we build 'em back up Yeah, what Big Business wants Big Business gets It wants a War when ya get drafted Call the Army! Call the Navy! when ya get drafted Stocked with kids from slums If you can't afford a slick attorney We might make you a spy Forget your demonstrations Kids today sit on their ass when ya get drafted Just a six-pack And you're happy We're prepared For when ya get drafted @SONG: Let's Lynch the Landlord Words and Music by Biafra The Landlord's here to visit They're blasting disco down below Sez, I'm doubling up the rent Cos the building's condemned You're gonna help me buy City Hall But we can, you know we can But we can, you know we can Let's lynch the landlord man I tell them 'turn on the water' I tell 'em 'turn on the heat' Tells me 'All you ever do is complain' Then they search the place when I'm not here But we can, you know we can Let's lynch the landlord Let's lynch the landlord Let's lynch the landlord man There's rats chewin' up the kitchen Roaches up to my knees Turn the oven on, it smells like Dachau, yeah Til the rain pours thru the ceiling But we can, you know we can Let's lynch the landlord man @SONG: Drug me Words and Music by Biafra I don't want to think Don't make me care I wanna melt in with the group I need the balls To leap out of my shell And let go with my friends Can't come up with anything I want to do I need a project I can finish My brain needs some stimulation Drug me Drug me Drug me Drug me Drug me I'm so fucking tired I gotta stay awake I'm runnin' late I gotta make it thru the day And make my time go by TV and the stereo and girls are lots of fun I want the max I relate better loaded 'Gotta see that movie stoned' Drug me Drug me Drug me Drug me with natural vitamin C Drug me with pharmaceutical speed Drug me with your sleeping pills Drug me with your crossword puzzles Drug me with your magazines Drug me with your fuck machines With a fountain of fads More rock and roll ads Drug me drug me drug me me me Finally off of work Unwind and watch the ball game at the bar Another potato chip weekend Is here at last Go away Go away Go away Go away Go away Leave me alone So I can't see myself Drug me Drug me Drug me @SONG: Your Emotions Words and Music by East Bay Ray Your mommy told you this And your daddy told you Always think like this And never do that You learned so many feelings But what is there to that Which are really yours Or are you just a copycat You're so boring boring boring Always tape machine recording You're so boring boring boring I've heard all this before Planless and mindless Scraps from anywhere Bunch of used parts From garbage pails everywhere Frankenstein became a monster Just like you Your scars only show When someone talks to you You're so boring boring boring.... I've heard all this before Your emotions make you a monster @SONG: Chemical Warfare Words and Music by Biafra Down at the arsenal they keep the nerve gasses Guarded day and night by caged white rabbits Been sitting there for years I'm gonna have at it I cut through the fence, run right in, and grab it Go crazy crazy crazy crazy ... Now I got my own mustard gas in my pocket Climb on a tree on a branch On a country club full of Saturday golfers So I can watch them die chokin' shakin'in convulsions Go crazy crazy crazy crazy Crazy crazy crazy crazy ... Chemical Warfare Chemical Warfare Chemical Warfare Chemical Warfare Panic in the air See the headless chickens runnin' Golf carts head on crashin' Crackin'heads wide open Scratch the grass, mister, you can't breath And roll and writhe in a sandtrap Starting to heave Claw those clubs, lemme see you seethe Crazy Crazy Crazy Crazy Chemical Warfare Warfare Warfare Yellow air Yellow clouds Blowin' down down down the fairway Sensitive to the touch Mowin' down the putting green Heading straight for the big clubhouse Where the stuffed country club ladies, so carefree Relax, pose by the pool Limber limp with a dry martini Until.... @SONG: California ber alles Words by Biafra and John Greenway * Music by Biafra I am Governor Jerry Brown My aura smiles And never frowns Soon I will be president ... Carter power will soon go away I will be Fhrer one day I will command all of you Your kids will meditate in school California šber Alles šber Alles California Zen fascists will control you 100% natural You will jog for the master race And always wear the happy face Close your eyes, can't happen here Big Bro' on white horse is near The hippies won't come back you say Mellow out or you will pay California šber Alles šber Alles California Now it is 1984 Knock knock at your front door It's the suede/denim secret police They have come for your uncool neice Come quietly to the camp You'd look nice as a drawstring lamp Don't you worry, it's only a shower For your clothes here's a pretty flower... DIE on organic poison gas Serpent's egg's already hatched You will creak, you little clown When you mess with President Brown California šber Alles šber Alles California @SONG: I Kill Children Words and Music by Biafra I kill children I love to see them die I kill children And make their mamas cry Crush 'em under my car I wanna hear them scream Feed 'em poison candy To spoil their Halloween So your're in the kids' ward You're in there cos you're ill How about some Pavulon So I can see you chill Time to hit the scool bus I think I'll schoot the tires Offer them a helping hand Of open telephone wires Ever wanted to die? Of course you have But I won't till I get my revenge I don't wanna see people any more Things I never ever saw before Make me see them for the shit they are Take as many as I can away with me Anyone can be king for a day So I kill children I love to see them die I kill children And make their mamas cry I bang their heads in doors I kill children Can hardly wait for yours..... @SONG: Stealing People's Mail Words and Music by Biafra We ain't going to the party We ain't going to the game We ain't going to the disco Ain't gonna cruise down main We're stealing people's mail stealing people's mail stealing people's mail On a friday night Drivin' in the mountains Winding round and round Rummage thru your mailboxes Take your mail back to town And we got license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns Checks to politicians from real estate firms, Money, bills and cancelled checks, Pretty funny pictures of your kids We're stealing peopl's mail On a Friday night We're stealing people's mail By the pale moonlight We got grocery sackful after grocery sackful Grocery sackful after grocery sackful Grocery sackful after grocery sackful Of the private lives of you Ha Ha People say we're crazy We're sick and all alone But when we read your letters We're rolling on the floor We got more license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns Checks to politicians from real estate firms, Money, bills and cancelled checks We cut relationships with your friends We're gonna steal your mail By the pale moonlight We better not get caught We'll be drugged and shocked 'Til we come out born-again christians.... @SONG: Funland at the Beach Words and Music by Biafra Sunny Sunday at the amusement park See the fat hands spill their pop Oh babe - lots of flags and ballons But someone sabotaged the roller coaster last night Ran a turn and then it smashed right down Thru the crowded haunted house below Oh No Human hamburger No And it's Crushed little Kids Crushed little Kids Crushed little Kids Adorn the boardwalk See the tourists drop their jaws and cones See the owners smell a big lawsuit Oh Police! (call your lawyer first) Make the witnesses go home And they'll turn on the TV And see the crushed little kids Adorn the boardwalk.... @SONG: I'll in the Head Words: Biafra * Music: 6025 In a desperate mind Little gardens grow They grow very wide They grow very tall Why am I alive Urban Wonderland By the fence I stand In and out of hand There are many paths Dripping dark so dense Do not enter here Enter over there People closing in Barking at my mind Shoving me to wine I want all alone I want my own home I want my own girl Help me hate the world Own and love my life @SONG: Holiday in Cambodia Words: Jello Biafra * Music: Biafra/Ray/Flouride/Slesinger So you been to schools For a year or two And you know you've seen it all In daddy's car Thinkin' you'll go far Back east your type don't crawl Play ethnicky jazz To parade your snazz On your five grand stereo Braggin that you know How the niggers feel cold And the slums got so much soul It's time to taste what you most fear Right Guard will not help you here Brace yourself, my dear... It's a holiday in Cambodia It's tough, kid, but it's life It's a holiday in Cambodia Don't forget to pack a wife You're a star-belly sneech You suck like a leach You want everyone to act like you Kiss ass while you bitch So you can get rich But your boss gets richer off you Well you'll work harder With a gun in your back For a bowl of rice a day Slave for soldiers Till you starve Then your head is skewered on a stake Now you can go where people are one Now you can go where they get things done What you need, my son...... Is a holiday in Cambodia Where people dress in black A holiday in Cambodia Where you'll kiss ass or crack Pol Pot Pol Pot Pol Pot Pol Pot etc.... Where you'll do what you're told A holiday in Cambodia Where the slums got so much soul