ACT ONE: SPRING SMELLS SUCCESSFUL “BASTARDS OF PROG” Beware the bastards, beware the bastards Beware the bastards of prog They’ll hijack your song They’ll make it go on too long They’ll add too many parts And you won’t know when the beat starts When you wanna write a pretty little ditty They turn it into something ugly & shitty We’re the bastards, we’re the bastards We’re the bastards of prog We’re the bastards, mischievous bastards Pretentious bastards of prog Have no faith in us - we promise no trust King Crimson or bust - ruin your life we must Crumble into dust - cover you in rust Your future is crushed Can’t you see that we’re just… Doncha know that we are… Still the bastards Total bastards Forever the bastards of prog? “WE GO BLAM-BLAM” In this time of stupid things We must be the stupid kings If you really want to know You should watch us as we go blam We go blam-blam We can do just as we please Our lives are so full of ease Always yes and never no In the places that we go blam We go blam-blam We only do what we want We only want what we do We only say what we like And don’t you know so should you? If you think this sounds like fun You are not the only one It’s a life of fun and games It’s stupid, stupid, stupid But when you can have some fun Then you know or work is done So please, so please, so please so blafhk We go blam-blam We Go! “HOTZI TOTZI NAZI” Dresses like a model and she looks so pure So why does her every sentence ends with “says the Fuhrer”? You never thought that a girl like that Would end up with a mind like that She’s a hotzi totszi, hotzi totzi nazi So she won’t be mine She and all the minions always make me snooze With all their dumb ass opinions of the smart ass jews You’d never think an angel face would go to such a dark place So concerned ‘bout the master race She’s a hotzi totszi, hotzi totzi nazi Show your pride Genocide Blood and soil Let them broil I wonder what will happen on a job interview When she shows up with a swastika tattoo on her forehead You know what she is? I’ll tell you what she is She’s a not hot thought-bot twat And she won’t be Mein Kampf “JACK OFF THE TEAM” Jack can’t hit a jump shot, every one’s a brick He don’t play no defense, he won’t set a pick He’s always complaining that he’s always getting fouled When he’s not insisting “travelling’s allowed” Let’s kick Jack off the team That would be my dream Everyone has had enough So let’s all kick Jack off Jack is such a ballhog, never wants to pass Even when he’s being double-teamed He’s such a jackass Acting so selfish while he’s being outplayed Ain’t no doubt about it “I’m the Jack Off All Trades” We gotta get Jack off the team We’d be so serene Let him whine & bitch & scoff It’s time to kick Jack off Kick Jack off the team Jack off the team Can we get him to apologize for all his mistakes? Or is it just possible he don’t have what it takes? Can’t get it though that thick, thick head We want him to improve No one wants him dead It’s the opposite instead Get Jack back on the right track “TWO FIVE FUN” Every day I wake up I think about three things And the never-ending sense of joy they bring Discounting the fact that I’m alive for one What keeps me on the track is the two five fun I’ve always heard about the two, I thought it was a myth Then I heard about the five, I thought the grade was fifth Add them you get seven and times three makes twenty one What gets us into heaven is the two five fun There is something ‘bout those numbers that makes everything alright See I told ya ‘bout those numbers Now I know you’ve seen the light Morale of the story is Respect the amount of life’s many blessings It doesn’t hurt to count I know I can’t wait till the song is done Certain things can wait but not the two five “ZOO ON THE MOON” There’s a zoo on the moon Lions, tigers, and baboons Panda bears and one raccoon They’re happy There’s a zoo on the moon You can feed them with a spoon They like chocolate macaroons It makes ‘em happy Lemme hear you say “zoo on the moon” Koala “LEASING THE FUNK (WITH AN OPTION TO BUY)” I’m leasing the funk with an option to buy I’m leasing the funk I don’t know why I don’t like funk I know why I hate funk He hates funk It’s a shame you’re leasing the funk now “I MUST GROOVE” Groove now Every morning when I get outta bed There’s something I worry about I can’t get it outta my head It always fills me with doubt So I prove I can groove I will move Late at night when the day is done I’m always thinking ‘bout the next day Though I know it’ll be fun My nervousness just won’t away Til I prove I can groove Though not smooth When you will see You will agree I must groove Groove now There are so many people who’re afraid to try You’re one of those people And I guess so am I But if we stick together I know we will be free Here we go, One Two Three I must groove You must groove He must groove She must groove They must groove We must groove I must “I COMMITTED A GROOVE LAST NIGHT” I committed a groove last night I know that it was not right But the rhythm felt nice and tight I violated a groove just now I was just trying to make you go “wow” I did not do no no No matter how hard I try I just can’t get it right, man “OLD FART AT PLAY” (Rest In Peace Don) “WHY DON’T YOU WANNA BE MY ROOMMATE?” I know you need a place to live Well I got a place to give So why, why oh why don’t you wanna be my roommate? You say you’ve been down on your luck Living out of a pick-up truck So why the fuck don’t you wanna be my roommate? The rent’s not due til the twelfth The fridge is huge, you can have your own shelf I’ve only lived by myself So why, why oh why have I never had a roommate? You’ll have your own bathroom and parking space There’s laundry in the basement We could have a lot of fun If you like cats I’ll get us one And I’ll make sure the dishes are done Oh I think I’d be an excellent roommate Plus I’m sick of living all alone I have no friends, just this phone And some sins for which I must atone Come on throw me a bone Move in and be my roommate I want you to be my roommate Why don’t you wanna be my roommate? Come on and be my roommate Please please be my roommate I need you “WHEN THERE’S NOTHING LEFT TO DO BUT PRETEND TO CARE” Life is suffering and sometimes so is being a parent. “THE POTATO SONG” Versatile, not a vegetable Salty or sweet Three meals a day, in three different ways I love to eat potatoes Boiled, fried, stuffed with bacon inside A source of carbs, just like rhubarb They fill you up Any way you wish, not just a side dish Just grill ‘em up Potatoes, chopped and diced Almost looks like rice In a salad with some mayonnaise Served au Gratin or Lyonnaise As a wedge or as a hash brown Smiley-faced, they’re nice and round Fun to cook and so easy to bake Call it a latke, call it a pancake Scalloped, smothered, even whipped or mashed My love for spuds is so unabashed Potatoes, boiled, fried So delicious I cried After tears have dried I’ll make them my bride “DO THE THING! DO THE THING!” Sitting around Waiting for you to Do The Thing! Do The Thing! Hanging around Killing time while you Do The Thing! Do The Thing! Why man? “ELEKTRIK DRUMZ” Got windchimes and I’m gonna play ‘em Got some words and I’m gonna say ‘em Do you want to rock ‘n roll? That is what we want to do Learn the alto sax You gotta buy a pick Do you likey playing the pounding? Are you hearing the beautiful sounding? Do you want to rock ‘n roll? That is what we want to do Buy an acoustic bass You need a good mouthpiece Strum that horn boy So quit your job before you get fired And pick up the flute if you’re so inspired That’s what we call tickling the ivories Sing it sista “POOR INEZ” Inez is waiting for a man, not a lad She is complaining, I understand why she is sad She’s getting old, or so she’s told Where is her pot of gold? Poor Inez And when she rises, she gets up, she gets down There’s no surprises when no one comes around There’s no one there, nobody cares So she eats in her underwear Poor Inez How do you feel when you can’t live your dreams? When you’re stuck there ‘neath the bottom not the top of the cream? If you wanted to be a pop star When she wanted to be a pop star She wanted to be everything she’s not Poor Inez “CASE OF THE MEAT SWEATS” (including an infusion of beets, a discussion with no one, portion control disasters & the perfectly rated salad) Went out late for dinner, got some BBQ Didn’t know what I was eating, but I chewed all I could chew And I chewed and chewed and chewed Till I got a big big big, case of the meat sweats Stayed at home on Friday, ordered 10 pounds of beef Gravy flyin’ everywhere, up my nose and in my teeth Where I couldn’t reach So I got a big big big, case of the meat sweats Oh oh oh Every cut of the cow cow cow Is what I want Is what I want it now Every single burger on every single street Is every single fucking thing that I ever wanna fucking eat And eat and eat and eat Till I get a big big big, case of the meat sweats I have a lot of thoughts What’s all this bullroar about all the meats? The only way to eat a burger is stuff it full of beets I swear nothing competes You’ll never get a big big big case of the beet sweats I might be an old man, you might think I don’t belong But son I’ve been paying attention to the words of your song And I know you’re wrong I got a big big big case of the beet leaks Fifty years of hot dogs, twenty days of beets It only matters who you are and not what you eat I mean, who really cares (about a) big case of the meat sweats? Don’t sweat them “DEAR BATHROOM” …good morning! …warning to bathroom …coming …arriving …surviving …I’m thriving. …I’m coming back “YESTERDAY WAS CLUMPY” (see previous) “BAD AT SEX” Don’t know where it goes Don’t know what to do I’m bad at it Is there somewhere I can go to learn the mysteries of certain people’s fantasies? Please? Please help him He’s no good at making love/getting down Every time I try the other person starts to cry And then they leave without saying goodbye Yeah, some people are so lucky, they never need not worry These things never bother them at all, no Though he went to college, he has no carnal knowledge I’m bad at sex Really bad at sex “I LOVE DICK” Richard is my friend, I like him more than Mick He always wants to lend a hand and that’s why I love him It’s true that I love Dick Oh he is so humble, unlike his brother Nick And when I need some confidence I pick up the phone and I call him Yes it’s true that I call Dick You know that I call Dick Oh it’s really true I love my Dick We can tend a garden and we can plant a tree I belong to Dick and Dick belongs to me If he says “let’s grab some dinner” I’ll always be there I really wanna take my Dick everywhere I’ll take my Dick everywhere I don’t worry, I don’t have to wait He never forgets my birthday and he always cleans his plate He don’t get angry, he don’t get mad Simply put… He’s the greatest Dick I’ve ever had “PHONE TAG” Phone tag, phone tag Seems like that’s all we ever do I really need to talk to you You call, I call, you call again I call, you call, will this ever end? Phone tag, phone tag, which one will it be? Will you answer first or will it be me? It doesn’t really matter who answers first If we don’t talk now it’s only get worse If we don’t talk soon it’ll be too late Really really need an answer, it just can’t wait We don’t have time to wait and sit So guess what? You’re It! “RABBITS OF LOVE” See them in the doorway/hanging from trees You can see them in the ocean/buzzing like bees But they’re rabbits of love See them crying like babies/being the boss You can see them foaming with rabies/playing lacrosse You can hold them in a glove Because they’re rabbits of love But don’t make it a habit to hurt the rabbit I know we won’t allow it, we will disavow it Don’t make it a habit to hurt the rabbit Or it’s gonna hurt you I love the bunny See them in a test tube/eating fries You can see them at the circus/without using your eyes You see them at the snack bar And a moonbeam too They’re angels sent from above They love you, you they won’t shove Because they’re rabbits of love “WHAT HAPPENED TO KAJAGOOGOO?” In 1983 I was six years old No regular first-grader My haircut was too bold ‘Cause I wanted to be skinny and British on MTV But there was one band of which I was fond Especially the lead singer Spiky hair was so blonde And it made my day Then all of a sudden they went away What happened to Kajagoogoo? The goo goo is gone Bring back the goo goo Turn goo goo back on And my mom liked ‘em too So where did they go? I don’t have a clue What happened to Kajagoogoo? Goo goo no more Please make the goo goo like it was before Wait, who are you? “YOU WERE NOW THE PHONE” Last night I picked up the phone and it was you You were now the phone Last night I turned on the TV And you were still the phone And I was alone “HAPPY CHEEKS” I like faces & butts “IF YOU’RE FEELING BLUE, GO BROWN” If you’re yellow-bellied, buck up If you’re green with envy, shut up If you dance like you’re white, sit the hell down If you’re feeling blue, go brown Seeing red? Close your eyes You don’t have to look at grey skies You’ll be tickled pink if you can turn it around If you’re feeling blue, go brown There’s so many flowers in the garden There’s too many fishes in the sea There’s not enough colors in the rainbow If the rain is purple stay outside Be an indigo girl and show your pride Put on “Back In Black” and go to town Go brown

ACT TWO: FRIENDSHIP JUICE “IT’S A FLUFFY LIFE” I know a fluffy man who does fluffy things Sings fluffy songs, fluffy songs he sings Goes fluffy places, acts fluffy ways Says fluffy things, fluffy things he says It’s a fluffy life He has fluffy friends who like fluffy stuff They do it all the time, can’t get enough They see with fluffy eyes, walk with fluffy feet Play fluffy drums, make fluffy beat People tell him to be less fluffy He says no, then he says maybe ‘Cause he feels fluffy all the time Fluffy ain’t lonely, fluffy fine Fluffy feel right, it don’t feel wrong It’s a fluffy life, it’s a fluffy song It’s a fluffy life “MISTER BOOGIE” When it comes to birth I don’t know what that is Now I’m on Earth and it begs the question “are you Mister Boogie?” ‘Cause I think you are I really hope so ‘cause I’ve never had a friend, never had a pet (Fact) Oh it’s true that you’re the first person that I’ve ever met Hi! Hello! What is my name and who are you? I’ve got to find that Boogie Are you Mister Boogie? “NOODLIN’ N’ DOODLIN’” Noodlin’ N’ Doodlin’ all day long Doodlin’ N’ Noodlin’ during the song Every single day I won’t go away Nothing left to say I know that you’re playing Well, I’m playing too But I’m playing much louder than you Now listen to me now Noodlin’ N’ Doodlin’ through the night Doddling N’ Noodlin’ to his delight Thumbin and A-Strummin’ ‘cause he’s right I am right (Yes he is so right) Listen to me now Noodlin’ N’ Doodlin’? I’ll show you how Doodlin’ N’ Noodlin’? Right here right now Listen to me play every single day I know you know you have ears And I know what you need to hear Got the remedy to dry your tears Sell your belongings, move far away Can you commit 24 hours a day as I noodle and a-doodle and wash away your blues? I doodle and a-noodle I do it just for you I do it all for you “COOLEST PARENTS ON THE BLOCK” I’m the “dom” in domestic and You’re the “sub” in suburban Yeah, we’re not a coupla boring old fucks Gallon jars of Vaseline Hundreds, hundreds of anal beads Coolest parents on the block “JAMMIN’ WITH THE HEALTH COPS” We are The Health Cops Eating sugar ain't no good Healthy nutrition Listen to the advice that we have to give I'm Commander Carrot some people think I'm mean But I make my friends get their beta carotene They never drink the soda because it can kill Jammin’ with The Health Cops Don’t stop Ok, so there’s this Sergeant Celery and he’s the greenest of the bunch Some people say he’s the meanest one at lunch He says “Only eat them when they’re crisp and only eat them raw, or else they’ll lose their nutrients. And that’s “The Health Cop Law”.” Don’t try marijuana, it only makes you hungry “FAKE AS FUCK” I admit I love wrestling, it’s ok if you don’t I won’t force you to watch ‘cause I know that you won’t No way that I can make you see what I see Though you might think it’s fake as fuck The shit’s real to me How does one pretend to get kicked in the face? It’s a wee bit corny, but corny ain’t all bad And hurricanranas are totally all rad Can you take a clothesline, let alone three? You say yes, you lie, you’d cry, go take a DDT You little SOB They’re professional athletes and don’t you forget A 90-pound woman could choke you out without even breaking a sweat ‘Cause you’re a measly maggot, a whiny pencil neck geek Who loves saying it’s all phony while calling me a freak Your life is the drizzling shits and you agree Not my fault there’s nothing you love I got ECW. WCW. AWA. AEW. GLOW. WWE You might think it’s fake as fuck But the shit is real to me “GODDAMMIT I’M WHITE” Let me tell you ‘bout my day I woke up, things were okay Well then I remember to my dismay I must’ve tried to block out what happened last night It all comes flooding back Goddamn, goddamnit I am white I noticed when I walked in the club Everyone was dressed up, I looked like a schlub My shoes a little dirty, my belly a little chub (shouldn’t had that sub) See I’m bad with laundry and I gotta big appetite (hey that’s alright) So I huddled in the corner, saying Goddamn, goddamnit I am white It’s my biggest problem Goddamnit you’re white, goddamn you’re white Excessively white, immensely white Goddamnit you’re white, goddamn you’re white Almost beyond white, extra white Then I closed my eyes, said to myself “you got this kid” Found some empty real estate, so I went there then I did The Macarena, The Kid N Play, The Hustle & The Horah The Roger Rabbit, The Running Man, and The Forbidden Lambada I hate to break the news but all species have their plight They’ll never learn to play the blues, certain ones are born uptight You can’t shake a leg ‘cause your skin’s too light You can’t cut a rug cause you’re pigment’s bright You wanna know what your rhythm’s shite? Goddamn, goddamnit, you’re white Oh please let me get back on the floor I don’t care if you stare, I’m aware you know the score Even my very best is too bad to ignore I sway to the left when I should be going right I’m so stubborn and shameless Goddamnit I am white (no shit) But every village needs an idiot Goddamnit you’re white, goddamn you’re white Especially white, vastly white Goddamnit you’re white, goddamn you’re white Perfectly white, yeah your white’s alright No matter what I do, this will be my place I won’t find the groove even if I change my race So I won’t stop trying, why not take a chance? I’m one clumsy caucasian And you can laugh when I dance, I give permission Alright. Are white. So white. All problems are white. All conflict. All trouble. All horror. All problems… Dude we’re so sorry you’re white Really really sorry you’re white Honestly sorry you’re white Goddamn you’re white “MY HOLLY HOAF” I once knew a lass from the north side of town Not the side I lived Oh how I wanted to ask her out But I felt I had nothing to give Oh Holly Hoaf, it is you that I loaf You are the fairest of all I don’t deserve you, but I will not hurt you I love you ha, my holly hoaf I confess I had zero ambition I was a lump on a log All I ever felt compelled to Was sit at home and listen to prog Oh my Holly Hoaf, you’re the queen of the world The captain of the ship They compare you to Mother Teresa (But you, you’re like Robert Fripp) I couldn’t play cricket or checkers Couldn’t play rugby or darts It seemed like the only thing I excelled at Was lighting my very own farts But my dad said “Get your act together, this bird ain’t like the rest. This one’s simply out of your league, but if you try, do your best.” So I finally got the gumption I introduced myself at school I told her my name and she smiled and said “I think your name is cool.” I said “No, you have the world’s greatest name.” She said “No, you do.” Then 10 years I changed her mind That’s Mister Holly Hoaf To You (Mazel Tov) Oh he Holly Hoaf it is you that he loafs He loafs you most of all Let’s have a toast to hoaf he loafs most Here’s to my Holly Hoaf Everybody! Three cheers to my Holly Hoaf Long live My Holly Hoaf “RAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAHAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAYHAIN” It looks shitty “CRIME OF DE MOON” It’s the crime of de moon coming for you When I was born and even after The sound of a horn would fill me with laughter I’d be giddy, life would be pleasurable The joy that I’d feel would be immeasurable When the stars are out and the night is soon I’m thinking about the crime of de moon coming for you So much to fight - yeah believe Try as you might - yeah believe The moon is right - yeah believe it Motherfucker believe it Believe in the power of the stars above How they make you kill all that you love Where there was once a feeling so true There’s only me, I cannot see you You’re like a flame, a flame invisible We are two ones, not really divisible When the sun is down in the temple of doom No getting around the land of ruin What will you do? You’ll do nothing ‘cause you cannot solve it “FART MY CARES AWAY” I know I’m a good guy, but good guys really suck I don’t know why I try, I’m always out of luck Girls want a bad boy, that’s not what I am I’m polite and do what’s right, they don’t give a damn It’s all just a sham So he farts… I fart my cares away Spending time doing good things for reasons I don’t know Always lend a helping hand even though good guys blow Tell me what to do to be more bad Or else I just can’t go on destined to be sad Does that make you glad? So he farts… Give me something that I need Help me plant the seed of meanness My butt is dirty but my heart’s full of cleanness So he must fart… I fart my cares away “EHF” Gonna sing a song that’s really good (E)Fucking (H)Farts (F)And Food It’s the place where the happiness starts (E)Food (H)And Fucking (F)Farts If you like these things you’re in luck Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout food, ain’t talkin’ bout farts “FUCK THIS GIG” Do you ever feel like the wrong profession has picked you? “DIARRHEA PARMIGIANA” I tried to tell you I’m not a man of taste and I never let any morsels go to waste even when I got diarrhea parmigiana No! I got it. No I don’t want it. I hate it. Take it away “BATTLESHIP FUCKNUTS” Yeah “KICK THE SANDWICH” I wake the taco, I make the taco I bake the taco, I break the taco I made the taco, I weighed the taco I played the taco Afraid of taco! I see the taco, it looks so nice For me, the taco and the rice I love the taco, I am a fanwich I eat the taco You kick the sandwich I bought the nachos, I got the nachos I want the nachos, I brought the nachos They sell the nachos, I smell the nachos I tell the nachos “you ARE the nachos!” Where are the nachos? Can I have some? I’ll eat the nachos, yum yum yum You are the Cheeko You are the Francis What do I do? You kick the sandwich I kick the sandwich “PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST” I don’t like waffles, I don’t like eggs, and I don’t like bacon or slimy frog legs But do you know I like? Do you know what I need? Do you know what I want? I want pizza for breakfast People try and tell me It’s not a breakfast food, but I really don’t care because it tastes so good like a pizza should “EAT CLOTHING” Why would I lick dirt when I can eat a shirt? Why would I lick a rock when I can eat a sock? Eat Clothing I can’t make a mess when I eat a dress I gotta take the chance and chow down on some pants Eat Clothing It’s much fun for you and I So much fun I’ll tell you why Don’t be scared, take my advice No more beans, no more rice Laundry’s done, it tastes so nice They say the grass is greener on the other side But what do you do if you’re colorblind? I won’t get fat if I eat a hat I will stay lean if I eat the jeans Eat Clothing “PACO’S PONCHO” Do you remember Paco’s Poncho? The best poncho? I miss it “PROG SONG” I know a guy who’s different, Told me I should listen to a band called Crimson, who were beyond compare So I gave a try, but I will not lie I only did it for this guy who had so much flair He had chops like a muthafucka, like a Shulman brother Drummed like a Carter Beauford and rocked a fretless bass His intonation was scary, he could subdivide the dictionary He shedded all night long, practicing that prog Nailing odd time signatures and all of “Moving Pictures” That prog He likes it when the beat goes Used to be into metal, but when he got a few pedals the top blew off the kettle Gas thrown on the fire A wah, a fuzz, a looper 1972 in the future (Sigh) If only Bill Bruford did not retire… So he got a ring modulator, twelve copies of “Big Generator” He wasn’t a hater, Trevor Rabin’s biggest fan Shredding fancy licks on his Chapman Stick But if he only had a log he’d still play that prog Soloing in thirteen and fantasize ‘bout Roger Dean That prog As he’s gotten older he’s only gotten bolder Got problems with his shoulder, still plays a doubleneck Improvises more and more, now allergic to 4/4 A mix of Neal Morse, Carl Palmer, Jaco and Jeff Beck And he never was compliant, but he’s grown more defiant Needs his Gentle Giant soon as he wakes up Does his sight-reading exercises with zero compromises And every band he’s ever been in has broken up then reformed without him Yeah let him play that prog Blazing through his modes ‘til his tubes explode That prog Not Steve Hackett’s nemesis They both coulda been in a Genesis soundalike called Pegasus That would be so prog A polyrhythmic heathen when the time is even Loves them hemiolas and the DiMeola’s Gotta play ‘em now “OUT TO THE LUNCH FROM HELL” For Eric Dolphy, Frank Zappa & Richard Lewis “FAMILY FUNK ‘N’ STUFF!!!” Who? Me? You? Bob? Brie? Lawrence? Family Funk ‘N’ Stuff!!! “TAKE FOUR” You’re very high There ain’t nothing like it “ROMANCEVILLE REVISITED” Baby take my hand We can go to another location ‘Cause I love you and you love me This is love can’t you envision it? You’re like the moon that shines so bright, night and day in Romanceville If you went away I think I’d be upset Look out your window Tell me what you witness when the sky is blue And also there is grass It doesn’t suck ass Baby take my other hand We can go to the aforementioned location ‘Cause although the two of us love each other Sometimes I think I’m sorely mistaken or maybe that I’ve wasted all my life I think I’ve wasted all my life in Romanceville It really sucks ass AND there is no grass (much later) You’ll find your motivation, your location, your final destination “FRIENDSHIP JUICE” Baby on the prowl Baby on the loose Baby on the hunt for friendship juice Baby knock you down Ya better call a truce Help Baby look around for friendship juice Baby won’t take an excuse Baby thirsty now so ya better produce Serve it up quick or Baby drop a deuce Fill a bottle up with AH LEE LEE! “TOTAL WASTE OF TIME” Do you like waiting? Then wait for it I’ll be honest, I don’t like waiting It’s one of the few things I’m hating It don’t pay well and the silence is grating It’s a total waste of time Total waste of both yours and mine Guess I’m the type of person who strings others along Never caring ‘bout your plans and never thinking that I’m wrong Just expecting you to listen to the duration of my song Not to mention fourteen hundred million thousand minutes of prog I know it’s a total waste of time I am sorry, I am wasted “EZBNDAD” I’m hungry. Is my breakfast ready? I am fucking starving. Is it ready yet? “MELON MAKES THE MAN” When it hit the ground It didn’t make a sound No wonder It was slimy It was goopy Smelled like ass And Looked like poopy It was rotten When it was ripe It woulda been your type I wonder If I’d be a better husband If I ate them by the dozen Would I? Could I? Should I try it? You upset it Now don’t forget it You can’t forget this At all You don’t get it You cannot let it Can’t let the honeydew fall Do you have the gall? Bad girls need new melons There’s no dispute That’s why we say a prayer For fruit Everybody knows It goes deep And deeper To justify How we celebrate You And I We rub it Everybody knows the melon makes the man “MY FRIEND’S NAME IS, WELL HE DOESN’T HAVE A NAME BUT HE’S MY FRIEND ANYWAY” We just call each other Dude.

ACT THREE: ONE LAST RESPITE FROM REALITY “FAH (PT 1) ” In the mountain In the closet In the moonlight Everywhere In the closet In the garden In the forest Everywhere In the ice cream In the fountain In the football Everywhere “POOPING WITH YOUR SHOES ON” When it feels like a ball crammed in your gut Nature’s calling, listen to your butt Take a seat and do it in bare feet There’s no pooping with your shoes on Wait and wait so you won’t have to push Don’t force it out your poor little tush Gotta case of the poos then take off your shoes There’s no pooping with your shoes on Take time to evacuate Forcing it’ll constipate Doesn’t matter if your moccasins are great Kick ‘em off! Unbutton your pants, let out your toots Stretch your legs and relax your glutes It’s not winter why are you wearing boots? Moon boots! It’s a squatty potty farty kaka peepee poopoo party But no pooping with your shoes on Nix the socks, ditch the crocks There’s no pooping with your shoes on Step outta ya pumps, lean into ya dumps There’s no pooping with your shoes on “FECAL MATTERS” I have a friend named Fecal and his life’s in tatters He’s a baseball player and one of the worst batters Every time he gets up to the plate his world shatters But oh Fecal matters Geetar! “PENIS FLYTRAP” Stick it in and she’ll break it in half The more you cry the more that she’ll laugh She’ll chop it off and dump it in your lap She’s a penis flytrap She’ll eat you alive and smile when you’re dead Give you the shaft while taking the head She won’t care, she don’t give a crap She’s a penis flytrap Rip you to shreds, tear you to bits And like I said, not give a shit She don’t back down, fixin’ to fight She loves to swallow, born to bite Giving out free cases of the clamp She wants trouble, she wants meat She’ll get yours trapped in her teeth Drain you dry then go take a nap She’s a penis flytrap She just wants a kiss She ain’t so bad But enter at your own risk “PENIS FLYTRAP AFTERMATH” Ouch. “MAGICAL PENIS IN THE BACKPACK” Magical penis in the backpack Playful penis the backpack Magical penis in the backpack Playin’ all the time Magical penis in the backpack A ragin’ penis in the backpack Magical penis in the backpack I’m happy it is mine Well I’m gonna tell you what’s in my bag As long as you promise not to nag Is it flower? Is it a grape? Is in an anvil? What? Don’t you know that I say what I mean? Don’t you know that the rainbow is green? Don’t you know that I’ve seen what I’ve seen? Don’t you know that the nacho’s a bean? Don’t you say what I think what I have Don’t you hold what I have in the thing Don’t you can what I know what I see Don’t you tell me “JON ANDERSON’S UNREQUITED GLAZED DONUT” Before wind there was only sky Before laughter there was only cry Before Earth there was just this guy He’d write about something round that would get him up and never get him down He’d much rather be an owner of a shop that sold powdered, sprinkled, jelly- filled and fresh Donuts Because his tooth was sweeter than his dreams And “Siberian Khatru” is slang for “Bavarian Kreme” “Fragile” was gonna be called “Donut” “Drama”* was gonna be called “Donut” “Relayer” was gonna be called “Donut” “Tormato” was gonna be called “Donut” And “Tales Of Topographic Oceans” was originally titled “Dozens Of Old- Fashioned Donuts” He doesn’t want yours Yours is not with glaze *Yes, I’m well aware that Jon Anderson isn’t on “Drama”. But “Drama” sounds better than “Union”, in every way. “I TOLD YOU, YOU HAVE NICE EYES” You’ve always accessorized since you were a little kid Yeah hiding your eyes was something you did But I always thought it was strange to limit your own sight When you never even opened the shades or turned on the light Tell me how, tell me now Why do you spend so much on sunglasses? You never go outside Do you have something to hide? I told you you have nice eyes I can’t take credit where credit’s due, it’s all built on lies They haven’t always been this baby blue, because they aren’t my eyes They belonged to a friend, a friend I had to kill I suppose if I hadn’t done that we’d be friends still, uh huh Yeah this ripe, tight body that looks so fine? Sad to say - also not mine From the top of my head to the tip of my toes used to be parts of people I didn’t really know And I left ‘em bloated ‘n bleedin’, they hads what I needed Like good hair, straight teeth, great abs And nice eyes Hey, I ain’t giving ya shit, I’ve always been on your team But even you gotta admit that’s a little extreme Ah fuck ‘em I bid farewell to their dead dumb asses Right before I send my regards to my overpriced sunglasses And my nice eyes “ON THE MIND OF A BANGLE” We met at a show four days ago. She, her man and I on the same bill. I was a super fan of her super-duper band. When she gave me a hug it was such a thrill. I gave her my card, said stay in touch, but I really didn’t hope for much. Yet when a text came to my eyes I found to my eternal surprise I’m on the mind of a Bangle tonight. Doin’ something right… Tonight there was another show, knew I really had to go. She and Mr Bangle were gonna appear. And when they did I felt just like a little kid, got so excited I totally spilled my beer. When the show was over I went to say hi and I cannot lie, I didn’t think she’d remember my face (or texting me all over the place). I’m on the mind of a Bangle tonight Her words weren’t impure, she just wanted to make sure I got back home to New Jersey. Oh I love my new friends John + Vicki, the psychedelic Minnie + Mickey. I’m pinching myself to make sure I’m not dead but I just can’t get it through my head that I’m on the mind of a Bangle tonight. Alright! I’ll never get to sleep. How can I sleep? “SO INTO COUCHES” The older we get the more boring our obsessions become. “MY BOYFRIEND’S BEEFY BUTT” Let me tell you something ‘bout my man’s buttcheeks They’re big and fat and juicy, some people call them freaks They’re meaty ones He’s a little shy so please don’t stare It’s really not his fault people love his derierre That Badonkadonk A tucchus that special belongs in the Louvre Yeah, it’s Spinal Tap-approved His momma fed him milk, his daddy fed him grass But Jesus/Moses/Buddha all gave him that ass It’s beyond first class Then he puts his drink down right on the rump I rest my big bowl o’ nuts on the tip of the hump It’s nice and plump Weightlifting is for suckers, and besides he’s anti- guns He’s here for the beef and buns Beefy booty, beefy buttocks Meaty mudflaps, phat ass fanny I’m so lucky that my friends are jealous It’s organic, no implants Sometimes he doesn’t let him wear pants (Bah bah booty) The moral of the story is although I might be vacuous I have a PHD in my man’s gluteus maximus “FAH (PT 2)” “JESSE KRAKOW” A) Is a really good singer B) Is a nice guy and never gives the finger. C) Is a really nice man. D) Likes to stay cool by sitting in front of a fan. E) Loves to cook. F) Likes to sit on the couch and read a guitar book. G) Likes to talk on the phone. H) Just like how he likes to sing through his microphone. I) Is a really good songwriter. J) Just like how he knows how to sing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”. K) Loves to sing. L) Never wants to be scared of hearing a ringtone “RETURN TO QUAINX” Once you got back You can never go back “BORN BRILLIANT” WELLIWASAGENIUSRIGHTFROMTHESTARTENTEREDTHEWORLDALREADYSM ARTBRAINTO OENORMOUSFORMYHEADMYTEACHERSALLLOVEDMEANDTHISWHATTHEYS AID: “You were born brilliant!” “SILENT HUNGER” (demo) Heart move quickly when you walk in the room/Mental earthquake, emotional sonic boom/It happened much too soon/Silent Hunger/I tried to whisper my feelings in your ear/But I swallow the words I want you to hear/‘Cause I’m so full of fear/I’m ready for love/My dear, you’re what I dream of/My hunger is silence/I cannot talk to you/A love like violence/Wish I could fight for you/Enslaved by shyness/These chains I can’t break through/But I don’t know what to do/Silent Hunger/Take me away/You know I want to get inside your mind/But I can’t control my fantasies of things that I will find/These thoughts are left behind/Oh, you’re what I need/You’re one of a kind but I’m out of speed/My book of love is held tight to my chest/My shameful obsession is worn like a vest/But my tongue is so twisted and I’ve failed the test/I’m not a liar/My feelings are so true/I’m a raging fire/A flame that burns so blue/I’m a danger to touch/But you don’t have a clue/I don’t know what to do “EMOTIONAL CREAM” Body parts & clothing is all you really need if you really wanna make emotional cream. “MY BEST PHLEGM” Oh my best phlegm, it’s always been us against them Oh my best phlegm, I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again “Fuck you” Oh F-L-E spells “phlegm” and I can’t pretend that I haven’t reached the end of phlegm Working with phlegm now And the world needs to know Oh my best phlegm, it’s always been us against them If not now then when? I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again “Fuck you” “SNOT POCKETS” Snot pockets never forget my love (They) fight for freedom (Please) Tell me now, I love ya Snot pockets, I feel the same Snot pockets, don’t ever change Never forget my love and (fighting for) the afore-mentioned freedom Don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life “NO MORE NOODLIN’” It’s time for practice, don’t be late More than good, it’s gonna be great Turn on the amps, tune up the drums Warm up your voice and stretch out your thumbs Here’s a guitar, there’s a bass We came for rock and we’re in the right place It’s time to jam, time to sing Except you’re all soloing and not playing a thing Your song’s sounds good that I wanna cheer it But how can I when I cannot hear it? “FAH (Pt 3)” “YOU MADE ME HATE BUFFETS” First thing I remember babe was your perfect face Said you were a foodie so I took you to my favorite place They run a special, $2.99 all day That was your very first buffet Your very first buffet Remember the giant spare ribs? And the shrimp fried rice? The never-ending salad bar? And potatoes baked twice? I remember too, but you took ‘em all away Because you made me hate buffets He offered tables of steam Veggies dunked in heavy cream A hundred different combination options to keep you fed He promised plates of pickled beets Hunks of mystery meat I guess it’s true what they say, “romance is dead.” ‘Cause do you remember my buddy Paul? Tan and tall and trim? What I remember most of all is how you left me for him I know he takes you to places where they don’t charge by the pound And I know this all because my dad says you haven’t been around I hope you fucking choke on that glass of chardonnay While washing down all that pate Polishing off your crème brulee “number twelve (listen)” at the risk of coming off like a jerk and i’m fully aware that i might be a jerki just don’t think you realize how tough these last couple of weeks have been for me . they haven’t been easy i’ll tell you that . going on like i have so much going on now . but i i mean it’s not like i had a lot then orused to love something , used to really love something and now i don’t . you made me hate buffets My poetry is about a lot of things. A great many things. I’ll have you know, of all the things it is made of there are a great many. I write them each by hand, then I re-write them using a different hand. The one you just heard - “number twelve (listen) - is my latest, and it will be featured “why are numbers only flowers?”, my future best-selling anthology. During Spring Break of 8th grade something happened to me which affected me deeply. I can’t tell you precisely how deep but it was deeply. And the deepliness manifested itself in the form of a pen, then to a pad of paper, then to a different pen because the first one was out of ink, and then finally to the brain of the mind of the hand. And it was there, sitting at the top of Think Fresh Mountain, where I composed my first two poems: “number one (eight grade sucks)” and “number two (everything sucks)” The next few days were a blur poem after poem after poem . .. until I got to “number nine (i’m gonna die a virgin)”. And then…nothing. Like a sea of blackness my emptiness was empty like a can of milk without any milk. Many years went by, of a great many things happened, which is why my poetry sounds the way it looks. Then one day I felt a lightness inside of me that radiated up into the sky, over a cloud, and all the way back up to Think Fresh Mountain. I decided to lie down and see how I felt the next day, thinking it could’ve just been dehydration. A few minutes later that I got up and immediately began composing my first poem in what felt like decades, because it had been decades, which is why I titled it “poem ten (decades)”. I needed the poem to represent the number of years in a decade, and I hope you respect my brave decision to do so. And it was there, standing by my brave decision, when and who walked into said decision but a most exquisite young woman. I won’t mention her by name because deep down in my deeply downs I know one day we’ll be (back) together. I wrote “number eleven (for you)” for her. you , the one i know i don’t but who i think i always do ? She read it, btw. Not sure if that’s what you’re thinking, but yes, she read it. And by “read it” I mean I texted it to her,”(I’m legally prevented from divulging how I obtained her phone # but if you and I are still friends once the statute of limitations is up then I’ll answer any questions you might still have) When she didn’t immediately respond I got anxious and re-sent it. A few minutes later I wrote “PLEASE WRITE “YES” IF YOU LIKE IT AND “NO” IF YOU DON’T.” I stared at my phone for the next day and a half until she wrote back “I’m afraid if I say I don’t say “YES” you’re gonna be sad for the rest of your life.” I immediately asked her out to dinner. Eventually she said yes. And I’m still gonna be sad for the rest of my life she made me hate buffets. “SONGS IN THE KEY OF LOAF/BALLOON” You walk to the beat of your own drummer. I walk to the groove of my own bassline. Put ‘em together, this is what it sounds like: beat plus groove = Songs In The Key Of Loaf/Balloon Conversely: beat minus groove = Sadness Cheese “PEG YOU FOR A PORK GUY” The belly, the loin, the knuckle, the groin You’re a pork guy The shoulder, the chop, the rump, the top I didn’t peg you for a pork guy You can think beautiful thoughts while you eat disgusting things Why does one’s reputation rest on a couple of dead pigs? Not every vegan is benevolent, innocent, or non-violent For their sins they must repent Sinner, Sinner what’s for dinner? Sausage, bacon You’re buying? I’m taking You’re a pork guy Chitlins, chicharrones, ribs falling off the bone, meatballs in minestrone If you are what you eat then you’ve never had a brain and no one wants to eat you plain The cheek, the shank, the feet, the flank The butt and other places where it stank No matter how foul, diseased, or rank Well there’s one thing for which I’ll walk the plank You’re a pork guy? I didn’t peg you for a pork guy I thought you were a dork, would you like a fork? “MARRIED 2 MAYO” If it’s awful to them, it must be awful to you and I It’s a terrible way to live, and a hilarious way to die They think it’s gloppy and gross, looks sloppy on toast But what do they know? They say it’s too rich, that flavor is a bitch Yeah what do they know? Every night I pray and pray-o Giving thanks to blessed mayo You best believe me when I say-o I dated mustard now I’m married 2 mayo We’re still in love so I will stay-o Happily married 2 mayo (He put a ring on mayo) Many condiments have been my way-o Slept with ranch now I’m married 2 mayo Used to chug blue cheese all day-o Engaged to ketchup but I’m married 2 mayo (He’s having kids with mayo) Goddamn right I am, I’ve always wanted to be a dad (He’ll buy a timeshare with mayo) So creamy, dreamy Yeah “EVERYTHING BUT THE SONG” It’s missing something. And I’m really impressed you’re still here. “BASTARD OF PROG” We are bastards, massive bastards Humungous bastards of prog Gigantic bastards, enormous bastards Oversized bastards of prog We made you listen to hours of songs about nothing at all There were too many chords and they left you bored When you wanted a part to repeat We made sure that it didn’t repeat But the bastard, the actual bastard The literal bastard of prog is here To tell us, then sell us These collections of songs Songs that might forever Because the bastard of prog is you “CAN STOP. WON’T STOP.” I like music. I like to listen to it. But I don’t like to play it.