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mp3 [5.73 MB] | Appears on Summer Jams of re-Itori Jones

World War I is almost done
being an exile is so much fun
it was the Great War, not World War I
i’ll shoot you down with my magnet gun
put this cat mask on your head and bark like a dog
stick glue on your tongue and catch flies then drink eggnog
you came to Zurich by way of Prague
I came to Zurich dressed like a warthog

let’s wear monocles and read manifestos
dress up in cardboard and write nonsense poems
comb each other’s hair while standing on our heads
dial bogus numbers and scream through telephones

let’s start a magazine, a periodical
you had a reading last night
how’d it go?
here’s my big secret about my monocle
I don’t need it for my vision
it’s just for show
our wives don’t get along, that’s for sure
but yours can play the harp and mine can scream like a dinosaur

let’s stomp on our monocles and wear manifestos
eat strips of cardboard reading nonsense poems
knit onstage entirely naked
then fill out applications for bank loans

death to Futurism
death to Cubism
death to fascism
the world is a prison
no, it’s a prism refracting light from heaven
death to Modernism and every single religion
it’s 1942
our day has passed
can you spot the anachronism?


Daddy’s Home

mp3 [4.23 MB] | Appears on Skeletons

I raped your mom
and gave her the gun
I guess that makes you my only son
I’m sorry for those birthdays that I missed
please take this scratch & win
I insist
I’ll go on my way
you won’t see me again
tell your mother that I’m sorry for all the trouble that I’ve been

my apologies can do you no harm
sixteen years to hold a grudge is sixteen years too long
believe it or not I don’t feel guilty
yeah someday soon you’re gonna thank me
even if you always run away

I’m a-gonna hit the road
you won’t see me again
go forth and do great things
great things
people say it’s wrong but talk is cheap
I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a long long while
but um, I hope you don’t turn out to be like me
things get mighty ugly in that there state penitentiary

my apologies can do you no harm
sixteen years to hold a grudge is sixteen years too long
believe it or not I don’t feel guilty
in the afterlife you’re gonna thank me
even if you always run away


Damaged Goods

mp3 [5.17 MB] | Appears on Greg Reinfeld & the Opinionettes

I was looking for excuses just to talk to you
I feed your pets when you’re away
but your interest in me makes you damaged goods
deflating the fantasy
you’re made of roly-polies and grubs and worms and grubs and worms and

please keep your distance
I can’t bear to be touched
each of these raincoats weighs a ton
when we french kissed our mouths were shuffling cards
I didn’t ask for any of this
whatever capacity I once had for romance has been shattered
burnt out
beaten into the ground

there’s a brick wall of haze between me and the world
I can’t communicate with anyone
I can make people laugh
it’s easy enough
beyond that I’m question marks and blank stares
word is I was an affectionate baby
how’d I become such a prickly pear?

I exist on a fictional plane
gotta keep the unexpected to a minimum
you’ve got this pathological need to define things
and I can’t even look you in the eye

I swear I’d never fish at you for compliments
reckon now there’s not much left to say
I’m disgusted by my lack of experience
and too timid to tell you


Dear Fara Keeta

mp3 [3.24 MB] | Appears on Recording Artist

Dear Fara Keeta
this is Monkey Control
Monkey Control to Fara Keeta
please confirm your coordinates
6 degrees north 8 degrees west

read you loud and clear
this is Fara Keeta
Fara Keeta go ahead
I have no coordinates
my radar is dead
I’m climbing a palm tree by the palm tree pond
searching for sustenance
my rations are gone, over

thank you Fara Keeta for that status report
get you a coconut and go back to the fort
HQ will send rations when they feel like it
sit tight, Fara Keeta
sit tight

Monkey Control, I’m at the top of the palm tree
there’s a squadron of hornets
yes sir, they’re staring at me
what’s the latest on the monkey-hornet truce?
I’m grabbing that coconut, over

if you value your post, soldier, you’ll do as I say
don’t touch that coconut
May Day! May Day!
you insolent chimp, I’ll have you demoted
there was no truce
evasive maneuvers, Private, over

dispatch from Fara Keeta, prisoner of war, quote
the fruits of my labor are fruits no more
I’ve been captured by safari men
please send help, please
end of transmission

your honor, Private Fara Keeta deserted
he was last seen riding away on the back of a zebra
he was last seen riding away on the back of a hyena
I mean he was last seen flying away with a bumblebee
no not a bumblebee, a killer bee
he didn’t desert, he defected
they were building a lab for biological weapons
we have footage of him selling secrets to other animals
Fara Keeta was a traitor
a double agent
an unsavory influence on his fellow primates
I present to the court exhibit A
in which Fara Keeta declines to follow direct orders
exhibit B in which Fara Keeta shouts in the mess hall
exhibit C if the court will allow it


Death and Good Riddance to the LP

mp3 [4.96 MB] | Appears on Greg Reinfeld & the Opinionettes

the long-playing record is half a century old
fetishized and drooled on
predates In God We Trust on coins
not that that means much

shadows cast between the songs at times were beautiful
a piece in stark relief against the whole
it’s form over substance
enough is enough
a heroic statement against what?
see every man-made object will disintegrate
even that trumpet guy’s trumpet

we file these complaints against nothingness
like there’s little nobler than the urge to create
I say death and good riddance to the LP
and its illegitimate daughter the compact disc

the almighty record with a capital R
submitted for public approval
critics and fans make desert island top tens
like if you were stranded
well no one listens to records alone voluntarily
and there’s nowhere to plug in a stereo
so even though you can’t hear albums on remote desert islands
which ten would you take?


Dictionarily Speaking, Again

mp3 [4.28 MB] | Appears on Bookbinding and Other Songs

Captain Sam Johnson took a rocket from Houston
for a complete dictionary of the Milky Way
they should’ve checked first for intelligent life
alas, you can’t prove a negative
he expected a minefield of Latin roots
what he got was a gut full of asteroids

on the nearest planet to the north star they crashed
without so much as a pronunciation key
having fresh run out, they had to ration supplies
each man got a legal pad
fat lot of good sheets of paper did
till they met the immigrant earthling

at a pavillion with a water pump
in the crater with a pavillion
a woman walked up who hailed from south caroline
mumbling to captain and crew
like a jukebox
"go back to y’all naked homes
back where y’all from
black black yellow yellow white white"

the Captain wrote it down and morsed it back post-haste
with a brief annotation for the database
location: Polaris
spoken by pilgrim or tourist
he quoted her exactly
a publisher cut the part about naked homes
titled it Compendium of Three Words Twice

never before has a volume so short
sold so many millions of copies

some say Johnson was known to hallucinate
to my mind that borders on reasonable
he was, let’s not forget, starving
others say there’s no sound in outer space
they’re only showing off
these are the sort who call cactuses cacti
and make sure you notice
most others believe in the immigrant pilgrim
and so do I
I’ve got her in hardback and memorized
"black black yellow yellow white white"


Disappearing Canine Blues

mp3 [3.06 MB] | Appears on Music for a Snuff Film

I been so sad since my doggy ran away
that mutt was my best friend
I should find another one or accept it that he’s gone
I wish my doggy never ran away

if trendy hipsters buy my records
then truth be told I got no reason to complain about ’em

if I can’t make rent by the time the week is up
the landlord said he’s gonna put some interest on it

talk, talk, talk, you got nothing to say
so why are you still here?
I should fix the coffee maker or call my folks back home
I wish my doggy never ran away


Don’t Get Superstitious if the Circus Never Comes

mp3 [4.09 MB] | Appears on The Great Communicator

I had a date with the President’s daughter
but she cancelled out and I haven’t heard from her since
called the Russians
sold them our secrets
now I’m a traitor and the Government wants me in jail
Chinese people playing chess
is there anything more delightful?
an old man over there sent me a letter it said
"hey kid, there’s more to life than this, so act like you’re surprised"

you think we’re better off at war
you think what you’re told to

don’t talk religion
don’t talk philosophy
don’t raise your voice if you got nothing nice to say
they might turn you in
I found a number on the bathroom wall
much to my dismay it was disconnected
the operator laughed and I jumped back
she whispered "don’t tell ’em where you been"

you think what you’re told to


Don’t Piss on My Piñata and I Won’t Piss on Yours

mp3 [3.75 MB] | Appears on Music for a Snuff Film

Jesus Christ never walked the earth
try and prove me wrong
you must be high on something good

you should check the facts before you open up your mouth
don’t believe everything your parents tell you
it’s old time religion versus common sense
and your side is winning

the cops came and put us in a bus
and took us to a warehouse they rented for the day
they tried to scare us with their badges and their guns
we all know that’s what they’re paid to do

Sherlock Holmes solved a thousand crimes
that don’t make him real
accept the book for what it is and nothing more
you’ll be fine without him


Downfall of the Amsterdam Juggler

mp3 [11.82 MB] | Appears on Autumnal Jams

I shouldn’t have done what I done
I shouldn’t have said what I said
I shouldn’t have been where I was
I should have stayed in my bedroom
if I had a time machine I’d go back seven days

hello, nice to meet you
you ever notice when people are see-through?
you ever notice when people don’t need you?
you ever notice anything?
I should have picked a better place to grow my garden vegetables
the pests that year were terrible

for my next trick I’m gonna spin around
with a coffee table on my chin
I’m spinning
I’m spinning
I’ve spun


Drug Use in the Good Community

mp3 [4.71 MB] | Appears on Tedium of Life on a Space Colony

drug use in the good community
picking fruit from the Nothing Better to Do Tree
tedium of life on a space colony
curiosity got the better of me

I’m a good person ’cause I said no to drugs twice
thank you kindly for your unsolicited advice
mind your own business
I’m rolling the dice
why would you deny yourself the pleasure of paradise?

life without drugs is pure fantasy
it’s not like getting high defies the laws of gravity
picking fruit from a bountiful tree
drug use in the good community

I never would have done it if they hadn’t told me not to
the only mistake is getting caught by the cops who wear blue
getting pulled over and stopped ’cause they got quota hoops to jump through
skimming off the top of my supply
their wages are low so they got to

you really should watch out for the cops who wear black, though
narcs in unmarked jet cars up on all the lingo
with their narc cards ready to shout bingo
jumping for joy with five drugs in a row


Drum Machine Soup

mp3 [4.38 MB] | Appears on Tedium of Life on a Space Colony

hey waiter, there’s a drum machine in my soup
I didn’t order no drum machine soup
what the fuck?

kick stock with a dash of salt
I got a hundred loops and grooves locked in my vault
8-bit gazpacho goes down smooth
the exception proves the rule
proof is in the pudding, dude
not prove like show to be true but like prove in a proving ground
stir the spoon to make the hi-hats move around
handclaps float at the top
is that the best cowbell you got?
take it back

hey waiter, there’s a sampler in my soup
what is this, 1985, the era of the rap group?
now we got solo artists going off the deep end
no checks and balances
one flavor overpowering

you know what would make this delicious?
serve turntables on the side in gravy dishes
you could dip ’em in like French bread
scratch to your heart’s content
make the older generation scratch their head

that’s not music
that’s not food
it’s jambalaya, grandpa
it’s mulligan stew
it’s making do with what you have
it’s a free-for-all, baby
it’s a grab bag, yeah


Dust-Up with a Rodeo Clown

mp3 [2.25 MB] | Appears on Yodeler Mark One + 3

dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
that countrified niggardly greedy old worm
bucket of scumbucket
bucket of sperm
he kidnapped my daughter
made eyes at my son
by dang I’ll get even
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown

I got a Rottweiler with his name on it
shove ’em both into a bottomless pit
sooner or later the dog gets a bone and the master dies of starvation
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown

he fancies himself a forward-thinking fellow
a noble champion of downtrodden souls
but there’s nothing he hates more than a feminist rant
when it comes from the mouth of a woman
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown

I stole and stored a dollar for a brick with starry dreams of homeownership
the owner of the dollar was a rodeo clown
he smelled my odor and tracked me
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown
dust-up with a rodeo clown


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