(Music by Bartsch/Matton - January 1997 Poems by Bartsch - January 1997) Aus einer wass'rigen Andacht in dreifaltiger Hinsicht erwacht Verleiht Apfelsaft
Fascism, the epitome of ignorance Listen up, I'll give you a for instance People go hating for the color of skin Won't they learn, they'll never win
Sal was working at Nyro's nook in downtown Selling articles of congress to these people downtown He was pretty sleezy when I met him A weasel in a poor
A letter written home on stationary, the address marked with the author's blood. I know his leaving was never premeditated, but eighteen years on auto
No lyrics
Your mouth said this never but your fingers have shown me that your head is so clever you claim that you own me forever You have the right to conduct
Oh I think I smell a rat I think I smell a rat all you little kids seem to think you know just where it's at I think I smell a rat walking down the street
I wish we were stuck up a tree then we'd know it's nicer below I don't know any lullabys I don't know how to make you mine but I can learn in lonely
Now Mary can't you find a way to bring me down? I'm so sorry that I had to go and let you down Knowing you I'll think things are gonna be fine but then
I was watching with one eye on the other side I had fifteen people telling me to move I got moving on my mind I found shelter In some thoughts turning
Well I'm finding it harder to be a gentleman every day all the manners that I've been taught have slowly died away but if I held the door open for you
(I never thought that I had to be this protector So many thoughts inside my head a strange collector) But now But now But now Now, now, now, now, now
I can't wait till you try to come back girl when things they don't work out for you who do you think you're messing with girl what do you think you're
Well you're in your little room and you're working on something good but if it's really good you're gonna need a bigger room and when you're in the bigger
I'm patient of this plan as humble as I can I'll wait another day before I turn awaya but know this much is true no matter what I do offend in every way
When I was a young man, yeah, I really knew it all When I was young, why I just, yeah, really knew it all So if you'll listen to an old dog bark You might
REDNECKS, WHITE SOCKS AND BLUE RIBBON BEER Writers Bob McDill, Wayland Holyfield, Chuck Neese There's no place that I'd rather be than right here With
Red comes from my grandpa He's an all American brave White come from my Grandma She's a red-headed Irish maid The blue come from the man I love 'Cause