D.B.R.T.S. (Molybdenum Mystic)
H.M.S. Quackenbush
The Cavemen & the Excellent Dancer
5000 Guys & Flies (Another Notch for B. J.)
D.B.R.T.S. II (Clumsy with Deep Fryer)
If I Burn Down This Bridge, What Will You Live Beneath?
Advisor/Honkytown/Cheapskate/Final Scurvy (a four part mini-series)
D.B.R.T.S. III (Class Action Pantsuit)

"H.M.S. Quackenbush"

Sometimes you ask too much.
And others not enough.
We keep the peace in time.
You'll have to keep in touch...
For a while it'll seem like it all -
Might've not really happened.
But we both know that's wrong.
You make recorded calls.
You made it to this song.
But you won't break down these walls.
They exist for a purpose -
Despite your persistence.
Sometimes you ask too much.
And this what you'll get.
The seas are getting rough.
Your shoes are getting wet.
Sometimes you ask too much.
And others not enough.
The seas are getting rough.
Sometimes you ask too much

"5000 Guys and Flies (another notch for B.J.)"

Duly noted in the captains log.
All the times we mentioned what went wrong.
Now we see the pattern - draw the line.
Algorithmic tatters well defined.
Who loses? Who's faster?
Losing eye - takes this smell away.
Hear it calling like a siren.
All the children scatter for their mothers.
Burning air and flashing light collect.
Wrecking balls and masterworks to come.
Another notch for Baby Jesus.

"If I Burn Down This Bridge, What Will You Live Beneath?"

Classify the answer.
Pitch correct the bend.
See the downward spiral never end.
Cast a grand illusion
Dispatch all you save.
Burn the book but spare the final page.
Dance in celebration for a day.
Time has come and we're sure we know the way.
Skip the little detour.
Make the path correct.
Take the right beyond the butchers gate,
Then make the second left.
Straight into the blinking log.
Right beside the one we own...
This is where the first ones fought them off.
And now we call it -
Home.
Mark your words with blackest soot.
A little on each hand and foot.
From the embers we will take
Things we need for memory's sake.
Not as cozy as the past.
A trail of flowing ashes.
Dance in celebration.
The time has come - it's here
It's here.
Ancients sent accelerant..
For us to know just what they meant.
If I burn down this bridge, what will you live beneath?

"Cheapskate"

You never ever pay the asking price
You'd never be a fool.
Give over man don't have 'em tell you twice.
That shit's too much for you.
You can defend it all the day and on...
They'll kick it to the curb.
This is a business and we got you by your business and
NOW!
You'll get what you deserve.
You're a cheapskate man.
The pre-tax total works the best for you.
You like the smaller round.
You dress success impress an awesome crowd.
Something of a star amongst the first ones at the bar
Don't know how...
'Cause you're a cheapskate man.
You ain't got nothing for the average man
You ain't got nothing but a stinted hand.
You're close to losing all that makes you grand.
It's coming soon according to our plan.


"D.B.R.T.S. III (Class Action Pantsuit)"

Come now motherfucker mow my lawn - I'll give you twenty dollars.
I gotta go write some songs - plus my ass could be bothered.
We got a goat hoping he would save us task in summer.
Well, turns out goats is jerks and now we're pushing round the mower again.
But that's not no surprise - when you're living in Kilbride
Shit ain't always easy growin' turnip on the west side winter style
This ain't the Goulds alright - the flock is walking fine
No trailer park in sight
Bidgoods is still quite a drive

West end strip mall comin' down hard.
I'll give you twenty-five dollars.
You ain't gotta work that much girl.
It'll only take two hours.
I'll throw in chips and gravy.
Have a six pack on the sly - get a little exercise.
Fresh air and feeling fine - make duckets on the side.
That's right baby enterprise.
You work and I get high.
Fresh air and feeling fine - make duckets on the side.
That's right baby enterprise.
You work and I get high.



All songs, sounds and recording by Jack E. Tar

© Tapehead International 2014