Music and Video

Lyrics by: Bill Coates, Music by: Bill Coates and Dexter Kozen

Originally just a play of words on the phrase, "I've got something on my mind," it's a bit more interesting as our bass player is getting cat scanned for that dizzy feeling...

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Steve sez:
This song was originally written (music and lyrics) by Bill Coates. It was back when we were in that punk band "Snail Death". It seemed like a morbid-enough subject (the band later proved its sick bent when it changed it's name to "Shuttle Dust" after the Challenger disaster).

Years later, our sometimes-drop-in-when-he's-in-town member Dexter Kozen grabbed a whole pile of lyrics and wrote music for them. This song, as well as Car On Fire (another Bill Coates piece) got new music. We present them to you this way.

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Verse: [A Bm G A] x4
Chorus 1: [C G A] x2
B
Chorus 2: [C G A] x2
C G D A
C G A B
Chorus 3: [C G A] x2
[C G D A] x3
C G A B

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I got a dizzy feeling
Kinda feel alright
I kinda feel like someone else
I wanna shoot on sight
I got a poison headache
Got it all the time
I went to see the doc
He said you're doing fine
  But you got something on your mind
  But you got something on your mind
Smoke a little garbage
Drink a little drink
Nuke a little dinner
Throw up in the sink
Watch a little TV
Catch a couple of rays
Something growing in my brain
It's bigger every day
  Well I got something on my mind
  Well I got something on my mind
  Carcinoma carcinoma carcinoma
  She's so fine
Guitar Solo
I can't take the pressure
I can't make it quit
I used to wear my hat
But now it just don't fit
I'm gonna do some damage
Then I'll do some more
Black & Decker surgery
You can clean up the floor
  Cause I got something in my brain
  Cause I got something in my brain
  Carcinoma carcinoma...
  That's her name

By: Russ Haines

Russ' landlady adopted what might once have been a poodle, before it started losing hair and its hips locked up. Her daughter's boyfriend hired Chris to euthanize the dog one day while she was at work. Taking it to the local vet, he explained that he wanted the body back, so he could give it a dignified burial. He snuck into the house shortly before she got home. When she arrived, she found that "Cuddles" had passed away in his little doggie bed...

So far as anyone knows, she still doesn't know about this. Yet.

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Russ sez:

A true story. Probably our favorite song to play live. More than a little over the top by the time we get to the end. It also has the only two-handed tapping solo on the album; a cliche I usually try to avoid, but useful here.

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You know they put him up to it, it wasn't very nice
They handed him the dog and made him name his price
The dog was old and deaf and it couldn't even see
When it got a heaping helping of his hospitality
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is roasting in the fires of hell
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is wormfood in Purina worm chow
He smiled a bit looked around and tossed it in the car
Slammed the door said, "Shut up cunt, we aren't going far."
That doggie whimpered, moaned and whined it didn't want go
Chris just lit another joint and turned up the radio
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is roasting in the fires of hell
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is wormfood in Purina worm chow
Guitar Solo
When the dog stopped twitching, in case you have some doubts
He brought the body back and then he left in in your house
It was later that same night when I heard your mother say
I really loved that dog it's too bad he passed away
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is roasting in the fires of hell
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is wormfood in Purina worm chow
He only got ten dollars and it went right to his head
He'd do it all again 'cause he always needs the bread
I don't want you to get worried I hope you can stay calm
But he overheard you bitching just how much you hate your mom
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is roasting in the fires of hell
  Chris Killed your dog, They paid him well
  Now your dog is wormfood in Purina worm chow

By: Dexter Kozen

It's about some French guy.

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Russ sez:
Evariste Galois was a kickass rockin' French mathematician in the early 1800s. By the time he was 21 years old, he had been thrown in prison a bunch, founded group theory, and been killed in a gun duel. And you thought math was boring!

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intro E
[E B/D# D A/C# E] x2
verse [E B/D# D A/C# E
A E/G# G E E] x2
G D/F# F E
G D/F# F E (2nd & 3rd verse[ G D/F# Dm/F A)
short bridge
A ... E
A ...
long bridge
[A Em] repeat indefinitely into short bridge
extro G D/F# Dm/F A

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Pen dry hand aching
Red sky dawn breaking
Candle low fever high
Today I'm going to die
Evariste
Sweet song in my ear
That no one else could hear
Got it down but there's no time
No time to make it rhyme
Evariste
(short bridge)
Blood pound adrenalin run
Turn round face to the sun
Raise arm point gun
So much left undone
Evariste
(long bridge)
Dashed hopes shattered dreams
Truth never what it seems
one truth that is clear
Sweet song in my ear
Evariste

By: Russ Haines

Based on Mark Manasse's double-stop bass riff and the three note "Jeremy" phrase, the song wrote itself in one night. When Steve wasn't at rehearsal, we played it as Jeremy. When Steve's around, it's Voices.

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There they go out on the street again
I just don't know what she sees in him.
I just don't know what to do about Jeremy
I saw them on a date again
She hangs around with all of my old friends
Most of them don't care too much for Jeremy.
  There they go again
  out on the street
  I don't think that...
  [she coulda had me]
I called her up the other night
asked her if she's feeling alright
asked her why the hell she hangs with Jeremy
It was good to hear her voice again
She says she'd like to keep me as a friend
She wants me to get to know Jeremy
Guitar Solo
I heard they got engaged the other day
She called me up just to hear what I had to say
I hope she has a good life with Jeremy

Lyrics by: Steve Rubin, Music by: Russ Haines

This poor guy actually exists, although we'll be damned if we'll tell you who he is.

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Russ sez:
We used the original tracks for every instrument on this one.

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Steve sez:
The lyrics were written "on the fly" as the band played the music for the first time. Dunno, they just came to me.

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Woke up this morning, can't see, can't walk straight
Tried to think, but I knew that it would have to wait
Can't work, and yet I sure as hell can't get no peace
Can't relax, all wound up and no release
  Where's my matches
  Where's my blotter
  Where's my fifty
  Where's my needle
Nearly noontime, I've been low and I need high
Won't you give me, everything so I can die
Killing time, I want fun and I want games
Entertain me, save me from a life that's lame
  Where's my matches
  Where's my blotter
  Where's my fifty
  Where's my needle
Bridge:
Life without drugs, seems like hell
Nancy sounded my death knell
Stop the war, I'll be well
Reality, just does not sell
Guitar Solo
Day is over, time to move and time to shout
Go buy something, eat it, drink it, throw it out
Gonna lose it, gonna puke right in the trash
I won't clean it, I'm going now, I gotta crash
  Where's my matches
  Where's my blotter
  Where's my fifty
  Where's my needle

By: Russ Haines

A happy lament by someone who is obviously a bit confused.

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Russ sez:
When I meet other people's friends, I am frequently greeted with, "Oh, you're the one who..." followed by an implausible, but true, story. Sometimes they just stare at me funny.

The harder it rains, the more likely I'll go for a walk. Because no matter what you do, time marches on.

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Do you know my name? Will you lend me money?
I know we must have met cuz yer looking at me funny
My train of thought keeps blowing through the station
Where was I? Could you be more patient?
  Help me find my train
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
If I didn't have a leg I wouldn't have a leg to stand on
I think I've lost my mind, it's something that I've planned on
You know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen
Neither one can cook
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
I have a tendency to run with scissors in my hand
May I have another clothespin? The world is full of sand
If I said I love you would you think me too unkind
To hide under the covers while searching for my mind
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
  Yes even I know that time marches on

By: Steve Rubin

We are what we are, and we do what we do.

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Russ sez:
Steve brought this in complete. He demonstrated the guitar and bass parts on harmonica. We quickly forgot what he showed us and have played it like that ever since.

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Steve sez:
I couldn't come up with a bridge, so I told them to "wing it". They created something I like to call the "jazz-filled-center". I guess it's what they do.

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The heat was on the pavement
He peaked out through the blinds
His friends forgot his number
He'd left them all behind
If he had another chance
Could think the whole thing through
He'd do the same dumb thing again
And crow "that's what I do"
  "Free will," it's some kind of joke
  You know your choices well
  It always ends up just the same
  The path that leads to Hell
The petty politician
He smiles and kisses kids
No one thought he'd go this far
He wins each race he bids
So now they're yelling at him
The country's in a stew
But he just keeps on smiling, 'cause
He says "that's what I do"
  "Free will," it's some kind of joke
  You know your choices well
  It always ends up just the same
  The path that leads to Hell
Bridge:
I've tried, I've tried, old dog
I've tried, I've tried, old dog
Guitar Solo
That pile of rags is living
Some flesh, a sign, a bowl
He's skinny and unshaven
The years have took a toll
But I won't stop to help him
He'll spend it all on brew
And I don't want to talk to him
'Cause that's not what I do
  "Free will," it's some kind of joke
  You know your choices well
  It always ends up just the same
  The path that leads to Hell
You know I love you, baby
I really do try hard
But sometimes, jeez, I'm such a jerk
You make me walk the yard
Now everybody knows this
It really must be true
Please try to love me as I am
'Cause this is what I do
  "Free will," it's some kind of joke
  You know your choices well
  It always ends up just the same
  The path that leads to Hell

By: Russ Haines

Remember the first few times there was actually money left over after you paid the bills? Buying a phone that works. A guitar that hasn't been played by anyone else. The cashbuzz wears off quickly though as you discover that a little ain't enough.

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Russ sez:
I haven't had a real job since 1988.

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Eight bars, staggered entrances
Well, I got me a job where you sit on your butt all day
but I'm lazy and it's there that I want to stay.
My boss calls me in , and I know what he'll say-
but he says, "You belong in management!"
and he doubles my pay...
  So I got a new car, got a new phone
  got a guitar, got a good home
  ...and I need more.
Well, I'm a real slob so I hired a girl just to clean.
She even does the windows, if you know what I mean
One day when she was here, I wrote this song in between.
I'm so lucky, I bet I sell it to Bruce Springsteen, then I'll
  So I got a new car, got a new phone
  got a guitar, got a good home
  ...and I need more.
Guitar Solo
My band's so good, we play in all the best bars
I fly to foreign countries just to break up their wars
I'm so busy, I turn down dates with movie stars
Ten years from now I'll be on the first trip to Mars, so I
  So I got a new car, got a new phone
  got a guitar, got a good home
  ...and I need more.
Drum solo
Fermata on A

Lyrics by: Steve Rubin, Music by: Anna Karlin and Dexter Kozen

A theme song for the Unabomber. Everyone got so excited over one little problem and ignored the big picture.

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Russ sez:
A song we pulled out of retirement for the album. We played it once and shelved it. Then the guitarist screwed everything up by playing a completely different part over the existing bass and drums. The guitar part you hear has some interesting voicings, long stretches, and sweep picking.

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Steve sez:
Why was this the title song of the album? Certainly not because of it's political message that angrily decries media control of our lives. It's just that, as the album came to completion, we found ourselves saying "who fucking cares" quite a lot.

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The daily news drives me insane
Bombarding me with random pain
Switch it off, the noise won't wane
The bastards just turn up the gain
All my friends repeat their lies
What to like and to despise
Propaganda billboard size
Think like me their message cries
  People you are so damn dumb
  When millions die you all go numb
  But kill just one, the whole world stares
  Who cares, who cares, who fucking cares
I care about the human race
We're growing at a rapid pace
But what good is a single face
Or seven people lost in space
We must not sweat the small details
Like crying over dog entrails
While millions languish in the jails
With fortress walls to mute their wails
  People you are so damn dumb...
Guitar Solo
Which tragedy would first get filed
The VP's little kidnapped child
Or Bhopal, where the bodies piled
The kid's worth more, that gets me riled
One day the bombs will start to blow
The press will be the first to go
Those left alive will have their woe
They'll live the truth they did not know
  People you are so damn dumb...

Lyrics by: Steve Rubin, Music by: Russ Haines

Just what kind of a clown are you, anyway?

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Russ sez:
Originally a different song, we modified it to fit some of Steve's lyrics so that we could sing, "Nyaah nyah nyah nyah nyaaaaaah!" The guitar line started out as a sort of Mark Knopfler thing.

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Steve sez:
I wrote these lyrics years ago when I "tried out" for some other band. They didn't care much for me, or my lyrics. So now you gotta hear 'em, because they're still not funny.

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The people that you meet as you travel 'round the world
Will throw you all a curve, get you twisted up and curled
You think it's just a circus 'till you see their flag unfurled
Now we cannot stop the chaos into which we have been hurled
  A thousand clowns (I'm not laughing)
  Jumping up and down (I'm not laughing)
  They're all around (I'm not laughing)
  Big mouths, little sounds (I'm not laughing)
  They dance and play (oooooooh)
  Don't get in their way (oooooooh)
  We're forced to pay (oooooooh)
  That's why I say (oooooooh)
  I'm not laughing (oooooooh)
  There's nothing funny about thousands of clowns
No one likes their government, it seems to be the rage
They spend their money badly killing children of draft age
On both sides of the curtain we're still locked into the cage
If you read your history you can see on every page
  A thousand clowns (I'm not laughing)
  Jumping up and down (I'm not laughing)
  They're all around (I'm not laughing)
  Big mouths, little sounds (I'm not laughing)
  They dance and play (oooooooh)
  Don't get in their way (oooooooh)
  We're forced to pay (oooooooh)
  That's why I say (oooooooh)
  I'm not laughing (oooooooh)
  There's nothing funny about thousands of clowns
Guitar Solo
  A thousand clowns (I'm not laughing)
  Jumping up and down (I'm not laughing)
  They're all around (I'm not laughing)
  Big mouths, little sounds (I'm not laughing)
  They dance and play (oooooooh)
  Don't get in their way (oooooooh)
  We're forced to pay (oooooooh)
  That's why I say (oooooooh)
  I'm not laughing (oooooooh)
  There's nothing funny about thousands of clowns
2 Times:
  I'm not laughing, I'm not laughing
  There's nothing funny about thousands of clowns

Lyrics by: Bill Coates, Music by: Bill Coates and Dexter Kozen

Do you have your Disaster Fan ID card? Driving down the freeway, you see a car in flames wrecked on the shoulder. As you slow down to gawk, you notice the driver standing over the wreckage. It isn't until after you pass that a shock of recognition hits you that you just passed your best friend.

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Steve sez:
This song was originally written (music and lyrics) by Bill Coates. It was back when we were in the punk band "Snail Death". You see, we actually watched a car burn from the comfort of our own office windows one day. It inspired Bill.

Years later, our sometimes-drop-in-when-he's-in-town member Dexter Kozen grabbed a whole pile of lyrics and wrote music for them. This song, as well as Carcinoma (another Bill Coates piece) got new music. We present them to you this way.

But wait! Inspired by Corinne Reich-Weiser, Mark Manasse decided to rewrite the music to "Car On Fire" a bit (hey, everyone's doing it) He ended up changing the vocal line and he proved his point by singing it twice! This version is our alternate and you can listen to it if you like. Steve sez: check it out.

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intro [A D]x2
verse [A D]x4
chorus [F C]x3 B E
bridge=chorus
solo verse, chorus, drum solo 2 bars

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Smile and watch her scream
You could be a thousand places
Safe inside a dream
You can wear a thousand faces
Light the fuse and run
Broken bodies in your sleep that
Vanish in the sun
Still the flame you bury deep is
  Burning like a star
  Burning like a star
  Burning like a star
  And someone said they saw a car on fire
Are you just like me
Do you hide the fire inside you
When you turn the key
Do your engines override you
Never take the blame
Living life so far above but
When you see the flame
Can you tell me that it's love that
  Makes you stop and stare
  Makes you stop and stare
  Makes you stop and stare
  So surprised to see me there on fire
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car on fire)
Guitar Solo
Do you still deny
Nothing drives you like disaster
When you close your eyes
Hear your heart, it's pumping faster
Standing in the crowd
You'll be on TV tomorrow
Genie in a cloud
Do you wish to stop the sorrow
  Don't you wish you knew
  Don't you wish you knew
  Don't you wish you knew
  Feel the answer burning through like fire
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car)
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car on fire)

By: Russ Haines

Written on acoustic guitar. It's about ecology or something. The last verse is obviously from a shampoo commercial.

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Russ sez:
The recording is from an evening when the studio wasn't quite healthy and we had to double up on tracks. Surprisingly, the performance and recording was good enough to keep. There are two acoustic guitars playing exactly the same thing panned hard left and right. Towards the end they differ a bit. Consider yourself lucky that we didn't keep the munchkin chorus at the end of the song.

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In my car in a traffic jam
Don't know where I'm going, don't know where I am
Got ten thousand people 'round me doing the same
And I got no clue of who's to blame
Everybody's racing and rushing around
Nobody seems to be in the right part of town
So I'm wondering, thinking while I sit on my ass
Why I work so hard just to pay for the gas... to go
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
I drink the water from the kitchen sink
There's chemicals and pesticides in what we drink
And when it goese through us, we flush it down
To the sewage treatment plant on the edge of town
Some of it's processed,some of it's pumped
Some of it's better, but the rest gets dumped
And when it hits the ocean you can watch the fish die
It evaporates, precipitates, I'll tell you why... it goes
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
Guitar Solo
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
I try to be good and environmentally sound
I know that everything I do will come back around
But there's so many people and so little time
And there's one strange thought I can't keep out of my mind:
Suppose I conserve, and you do too
And we tell two friends and they do too
Is a better world within our grasp?
Or are we already breathing our last gasp... to go
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started

By: Dexter Kozen

It's about some French guy.

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Russ sez:
Evariste Galois was a kickass rockin' French mathematician in the early 1800s. By the time he was 21 years old, he had been thrown in prison a bunch, founded group theory, and been killed in a gun duel. And you thought math was boring!

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intro E
[E B/D# D A/C# E] x2
verse [E B/D# D A/C# E
A E/G# G E E] x2
G D/F# F E
G D/F# F E (2nd & 3rd verse[ G D/F# Dm/F A)
short bridge
A ... E
A ...
long bridge
[A Em] repeat indefinitely into short bridge
extro G D/F# Dm/F A

---

Pen dry hand aching
Red sky dawn breaking
Candle low fever high
Today I'm going to die
Evariste
Sweet song in my ear
That no one else could hear
Got it down but there's no time
No time to make it rhyme
Evariste
(short bridge)
Blood pound adrenalin run
Turn round face to the sun
Raise arm point gun
So much left undone
Evariste
(long bridge)
Dashed hopes shattered dreams
Truth never what it seems
one truth that is clear
Sweet song in my ear
Evariste

Lyrics by: Steve Rubin, Music by: Russ Haines

Nobody likes to talk about Schzophrenia, not even the band. But it strikes 1 in 100 people, and that means you probably know someone who has it. This song is an angry little ditty about the disease.

This song is an alternate to Jeremy. They share the same music (only the vocal track is different). But that vocal track is so different, it even has different words.

---

Steve sez:
Schzophrenia rarely has anything to do with "split personality", so the next time you can't make up your mind, please don't say that you're being schizophrenic.

---

Life was great when I was a kid
I played with friends and did what they did
Now I sit alone on the skid
Voices tell me what to do
They mostly make more sense than you
You talk too fast I get confused
  I'm schizophrenic, can't think
  Thoughts wash over me and don't link
They got it wrong on your TV
Its not a split personality
My head keeps buzzing like a bee
Who can I turn to in my void
When people treat me like a droid
Some days, with pills, I feel quite buoyed
  I'm schizophrenic, can't think
  Thoughts wash over me and don't link
Guitar Solo
  I'm schizophrenic, can't think
  Thoughts wash over me and don't link
The mental ward is no great prize
But in it, calming routine lies
But they deinstitutionalize
There's no more funds to sickness treat
I'll never get back on my feet
Suffering millions on the street

By: Russ Haines

A happy lament by someone who is obviously a bit confused.

---

Russ sez:
When I meet other people's friends, I am frequently greeted with, "Oh, you're the one who..." followed by an implausible, but true, story. Sometimes they just stare at me funny.

The harder it rains, the more likely I'll go for a walk. Because no matter what you do, time marches on.

---

Do you know my name? Will you lend me money?
I know we must have met cuz yer looking at me funny
My train of thought keeps blowing through the station
Where was I? Could you be more patient?
  Help me find my train
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
If I didn't have a leg I wouldn't have a leg to stand on
I think I've lost my mind, it's something that I've planned on
You know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen
Neither one can cook
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
I have a tendency to run with scissors in my hand
May I have another clothespin? The world is full of sand
If I said I love you would you think me too unkind
To hide under the covers while searching for my mind
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
  Yes even I know that time marches on

By: Russ Haines

A happy lament by someone who is obviously a bit confused.

---

Russ sez:
When I meet other people's friends, I am frequently greeted with, "Oh, you're the one who..." followed by an implausible, but true, story. Sometimes they just stare at me funny.

The harder it rains, the more likely I'll go for a walk. Because no matter what you do, time marches on.

---

Do you know my name? Will you lend me money?
I know we must have met cuz yer looking at me funny
My train of thought keeps blowing through the station
Where was I? Could you be more patient?
  Help me find my train
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
If I didn't have a leg I wouldn't have a leg to stand on
I think I've lost my mind, it's something that I've planned on
You know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen
Neither one can cook
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
I have a tendency to run with scissors in my hand
May I have another clothespin? The world is full of sand
If I said I love you would you think me too unkind
To hide under the covers while searching for my mind
  Help me find my brain
  I think I'll play in the street again
  I can't seem to get out of the rain
  But even I know that time marches on
  Yes even I know that time marches on

Lyrics by: Steve Rubin, Music by: Anna Karlin and Dexter Kozen

A theme song for the Unabomber. Everyone got so excited over one little problem and ignored the big picture.

---

Russ sez:
A song we pulled out of retirement for the album. We played it once and shelved it. Then the guitarist screwed everything up by playing a completely different part over the existing bass and drums. The guitar part you hear has some interesting voicings, long stretches, and sweep picking.

---

Steve sez:
Why was this the title song of the album? Certainly not because of it's political message that angrily decries media control of our lives. It's just that, as the album came to completion, we found ourselves saying "who fucking cares" quite a lot.

---

The daily news drives me insane
Bombarding me with random pain
Switch it off, the noise won't wane
The bastards just turn up the gain
All my friends repeat their lies
What to like and to despise
Propaganda billboard size
Think like me their message cries
  People you are so damn dumb
  When millions die you all go numb
  But kill just one, the whole world stares
  Who cares, who cares, who fucking cares
I care about the human race
We're growing at a rapid pace
But what good is a single face
Or seven people lost in space
We must not sweat the small details
Like crying over dog entrails
While millions languish in the jails
With fortress walls to mute their wails
  People you are so damn dumb...
Guitar Solo
Which tragedy would first get filed
The VP's little kidnapped child
Or Bhopal, where the bodies piled
The kid's worth more, that gets me riled
One day the bombs will start to blow
The press will be the first to go
Those left alive will have their woe
They'll live the truth they did not know
  People you are so damn dumb...

Lyrics by: Bill Coates, Music by: Bill Coates and Dexter Kozen

Do you have your Disaster Fan ID card? Driving down the freeway, you see a car in flames wrecked on the shoulder. As you slow down to gawk, you notice the driver standing over the wreckage. It isn't until after you pass that a shock of recognition hits you that you just passed your best friend.

---

Steve sez:
This song was originally written (music and lyrics) by Bill Coates. It was back when we were in the punk band "Snail Death". You see, we actually watched a car burn from the comfort of our own office windows one day. It inspired Bill.

Years later, our sometimes-drop-in-when-he's-in-town member Dexter Kozen grabbed a whole pile of lyrics and wrote music for them. This song, as well as Carcinoma (another Bill Coates piece) got new music. We present them to you this way.

But wait! Inspired by Corinne Reich-Weiser, Mark Manasse decided to rewrite the music to "Car On Fire" a bit (hey, everyone's doing it) He ended up changing the vocal line and he proved his point by singing it twice! This version is our alternate and you can listen to it if you like. Steve sez: check it out.

---

intro [A D]x2
verse [A D]x4
chorus [F C]x3 B E
bridge=chorus
solo verse, chorus, drum solo 2 bars

---

Smile and watch her scream
You could be a thousand places
Safe inside a dream
You can wear a thousand faces
Light the fuse and run
Broken bodies in your sleep that
Vanish in the sun
Still the flame you bury deep is
  Burning like a star
  Burning like a star
  Burning like a star
  And someone said they saw a car on fire
Are you just like me
Do you hide the fire inside you
When you turn the key
Do your engines override you
Never take the blame
Living life so far above but
When you see the flame
Can you tell me that it's love that
  Makes you stop and stare
  Makes you stop and stare
  Makes you stop and stare
  So surprised to see me there on fire
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car on fire)
Guitar Solo
Do you still deny
Nothing drives you like disaster
When you close your eyes
Hear your heart, it's pumping faster
Standing in the crowd
You'll be on TV tomorrow
Genie in a cloud
Do you wish to stop the sorrow
  Don't you wish you knew
  Don't you wish you knew
  Don't you wish you knew
  Feel the answer burning through like fire
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car)
Singing
(We don't care) Cause life's a bore
(We don't care) If you get yours
(We don't care) Much who you are
(We just wanna watch your car on fire)

By: Russ Haines

Written on acoustic guitar. It's about ecology or something. The last verse is obviously from a shampoo commercial.

---

Russ sez:
The recording is from an evening when the studio wasn't quite healthy and we had to double up on tracks. Surprisingly, the performance and recording was good enough to keep. There are two acoustic guitars playing exactly the same thing panned hard left and right. Towards the end they differ a bit. Consider yourself lucky that we didn't keep the munchkin chorus at the end of the song.

---

In my car in a traffic jam
Don't know where I'm going, don't know where I am
Got ten thousand people 'round me doing the same
And I got no clue of who's to blame
Everybody's racing and rushing around
Nobody seems to be in the right part of town
So I'm wondering, thinking while I sit on my ass
Why I work so hard just to pay for the gas... to go
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
I drink the water from the kitchen sink
There's chemicals and pesticides in what we drink
And when it goese through us, we flush it down
To the sewage treatment plant on the edge of town
Some of it's processed,some of it's pumped
Some of it's better, but the rest gets dumped
And when it hits the ocean you can watch the fish die
It evaporates, precipitates, I'll tell you why... it goes
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
Guitar Solo
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
I try to be good and environmentally sound
I know that everything I do will come back around
But there's so many people and so little time
And there's one strange thought I can't keep out of my mind:
Suppose I conserve, and you do too
And we tell two friends and they do too
Is a better world within our grasp?
Or are we already breathing our last gasp... to go
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started
  Round and Around, again and again
  That brings us back where we started

By: Dexter Kozen

Dexter Kozen showed this to us just before one of our Halloween gigs. Luckily, Anna was still in the band and could sight read the whole thing. This is an orchestrated version with strings and stuff.

---

Russ sez:
Yes, I do own a violin and cello. No, I don't own kettle drums. I've got a banjo, though, and that's almost as bad.

---

intro C7-5/E Em
verse [Am6/E Em-5 E] x4
E7 Am4 Am
C#-/G C#-/F#
[Am6/E Em-5 E] x2
vamp [Am6/C C#-
Em-5 Em Em-5 Em] x2
Am6/C C#-
C7-5/E Em
fugue [Em | |Am | |
|D | |G | |
|C | |F# | |
|B B/D#|E |A A/C#|D |
|G |C/G |A |Dm/A |
|B |C Am |Em/B Am/C|Em/B B7] x2
(vamp)

---

Autumn's turned the leaves to rust
The trees have fallen bare
Silver clouds enshroud the moon
A chill is in the air
Shadows of a thousand years
Rise again unseen
Voices whisper in the trees
Tonight is Halloween
Fugue
On wings of mortals' weary dreams
Across the night we'll fly
We'll dance among the stars unchained
Until the dawn is nigh
A year has passed away, my love
Since we've each other seen
Softly now and take my hand
Tonight is Halloween

By: Dexter Kozen

Dexter Kozen showed this to us just before one of our Halloween gigs. Luckily, Anna was still in the band and could sight read the whole thing. This is an orchestrated version with strings and stuff.

---

Russ sez:
Yes, I do own a violin and cello. No, I don't own kettle drums. I've got a banjo, though, and that's almost as bad.

---

intro C7-5/E Em
verse [Am6/E Em-5 E] x4
E7 Am4 Am
C#-/G C#-/F#
[Am6/E Em-5 E] x2
vamp [Am6/C C#-
Em-5 Em Em-5 Em] x2
Am6/C C#-
C7-5/E Em
fugue [Em | |Am | |
|D | |G | |
|C | |F# | |
|B B/D#|E |A A/C#|D |
|G |C/G |A |Dm/A |
|B |C Am |Em/B Am/C|Em/B B7] x2
(vamp)

---

Autumn's turned the leaves to rust
The trees have fallen bare
Silver clouds enshroud the moon
A chill is in the air
Shadows of a thousand years
Rise again unseen
Voices whisper in the trees
Tonight is Halloween
Fugue
On wings of mortals' weary dreams
Across the night we'll fly
We'll dance among the stars unchained
Until the dawn is nigh
A year has passed away, my love
Since we've each other seen
Softly now and take my hand
Tonight is Halloween

By: Russ Haines

Remember that annoying little kid who constantly pestered dad with inappropriate questions? Maybe it was you. "Go ask your mom."

---

Russ sez:
This was a demo recording for the band. I thought I'd get around to letting everyone play one day, but it never happened.

---

Why is the sky blue
What does this knob do
Who are the bad men
Why did he kill them
  Go ask your mom
What is my real name
Teach me a new game
Why is the grass green
Why are there green beans
  Go ask your mom
Do you know what I'm thinking
Are you there while I'm blinking
If I think really hard can I fly
Where will I go when I die
  Go ask your mom

Lyrics: Mark Manasse, Russ Haines, Steve Rubin, Music: traditional, to the tune of "Dayenu"

---

Much like the quatrains of Nostradamus, the verses of "Diana" take some interpreting. Because of the three line, eight syllable form, there's not much room for sloppy writing. Think of it as Rock and Roll haiku.

There's a lot of information and "in" jokes if you're an ardent Diana admirer. In fact, the only people who'll understand all of the verses without reading this explanation are also the ones who are likely to be "royally pissed" at it.

Poetic License Applied For.

---

Cinderella's just a wish, your
Marriage loveless, royal issue
Can't send roses, only tissue
Diana
Regal figure, drop-by, dash in,
Children, land mines, AIDS, compassion
As a virtue or just fashion?
Diana
  Die, Diana (x3), Diana, Diana
Which one is your best admirer
Dodi, Charles, the sons you sire
Or the National Enquirer?
Diana
Conspiratorially speaking
Wedding Dodi's havoc wreaking
Careful of whose nose you're tweaking
Diana
People, Newsweek, cover shots, we
Crave your beauty, wealth, your thoughts, we
Hunt you down with paparazzi
Diana
  Die, Diana (x3), Diana, Diana
They (the cameras) watch how you dress,
You (the princess) hide from the press,
We (the public) love you to death
Diana
Enter tunnel at the red line
Fleeing journalistic deadline
Once again, a front page headline
Diana
(Mer)cedes speeding like a comet
Little princes lose their mom, it's
Bigger press than royal vomit
Diana
Lovely rings that Dodi's buying
(Newest lover, Harrod's scion)
Photo op of bloodstains drying
Diana
  Die, Diana (x3), Diana, Diana
Jackals of the press they fle-ed
Drinking driver, too much spe-ed
Char-i-ots of Fire, inde-ed
Diana
Inbred royals always bicker
Wish the funeral was quicker
Driver couldn't hold his liquor
Diana
If tabloid news has caused your death, then
We commend your soul to heaven
Grisly photos at eleven
Diana
Hollywood's on your bandwagon
Blame press for chauffeur's zigzaggin'
Blood tests showed he'd drunk a flagon
Diana
Endless footage on the TV
Making everybody greedy
Like this song? Then buy our CD
Diana
  Die, Diana (x3), Diana, Diana
  Die, Diana (x3), Diana, Diana

Lyrics: Steve Rubin, Music: Russ Haines and Mark Manasse

A dance tune for the ICU. Grab your colostomy bags and boogie down.

---

Russ sez:
How the hell did Steve rhyme "speculum" and "cystoscopy room"? [One of these days we'll work out the harmonies.]

---

I used to go for dull romance
We'd both get drunk and drop our pants
Now when the week ends I look toward
Sex in the emergency ward
I like those quivering people
They're always very feeble
I make them put on sterile gowns
And feed them lots of ups and downs
  Oh baby give me your hospital love
  We'll do it hanging from traction above
  Can't wait to put on my surgical gloves
  Come on and give me your hospital love
Let me do it with a bed pan
Let me do it with a dead man
Let me do it on the table
Give me shots so I am able
Put me in intensive care
Make sure that my tent won't tear
Give me extra oxygen
So there's strength to do it again
  Oh baby give me your hospital love
  We'll do it hanging from traction above
  Can't wait to put on my surgical gloves
  Come on and give me your hospital love
Exploratory surgery
Can't wait to see what we will see
We'll start off with a speculum
And then the cystoscopy room
We'll keep on wheeling down the hall
Our illnesses are such a ball
We'll get down on our hands and knees
And both end up as amputees
  Oh baby give me your hospital love
  We'll do it hanging from traction above
  Can't wait to put on my surgical gloves
  Come on and give me your hospital love

By: Mark Manasse

Based on a true story.

---

You're waking up all sweaty
In the middle of the night
So you try reading a story
But there's trouble with your eyesight
And you're feeling weak and dizzy
You're complaining of your plight
To your doctor who decides to check
Your ears out with a light, and
  You're a pincushion boy
They draw your blood and urine
Make you walk a balance beam
And then they strap and muzzle you into
A claustrophobe's worst bad dream
When they've jiggled every molecule
They let you out to scream
But when they take some fluids from your spine
You catch the needle's gleam, yeah
  You're a pincushion boy
Guitar Solo
You've got a diagnosis that
Explains the bumps and spills
And why walking down the street
Reminds you of a climb straight uphill
You inject yourself with drugs that give you
Tremors, pains, and chills,
And though you know the shots are not a cure
They'll have to do until, so
  You're a pincushion boy

By: Russ Haines

Anna Karlin, Severe Tire Damage's first drummer and guitarist, was dating Henk from South Africa when this song was written by guitarist Russ Haines. The original recording was made on a mono Wilcox-Gay "Recordio Disc" in 1981 and transferred to mp3. It was intended as a scratch recording for the band to learn the song.

Somehow, as all too often happens, the recording got passed around. They Might Be Giants, plagiarists as they are, covered the song changing only the occasional lyric. It was not a big deal until 1998 when They Might Be Giants toured and released an album titled, "Severe Tire Damage". It seems jealousy of Severe Tire Damage is still running rampant years after the Rolling Stones tried to be the "First Band On The Internet" years after Severe Tire Damage did it.

For those who question the validity of Severe Tire Damage's claim to authorship of "Anna K.", ask yourself:
If Anna K. was a member of Severe Tire Damage, then who is "Ana Ng" and what's her relationship to TMBG?
Which recording was first?
Whose lyrics make more sense?

The Marks (Severe Tire Damage's bassist Mark Manasse and drummer Mark Weiser) have counseled against suing The Johns. But Severe Tire Damage has heard TMBG is about to cover The Banana Slug Song...

---

Make a hole with a drill tangential to
To the name of this town in a desktop globe
Exit wound in a foreign nation
Showing the home of the one this was written for
My condo looks upside down from there
Water spirals the wrong way out the tub
And her voice is a backward record
It's like the whirlpool, and it never ends
Anna K. and I are getting old
And we still haven't talked of the glow
In each other's magnetic presence
Listen Anna, hear my words
The ones I would think you would say
If there was a you for me
All alone at the '65 World's Fair
Eighty dolls yelling small girl after all
Who was at the Monsanto pavilion
Why was the bench still cold, had she been there?
Or the time when the storm tangled up the wire
And the horny force guy at the bus depot
And in back at the edge of hearing
These were the words that the voice was repeating
Anna K. and I are getting old
And we still haven't talked of the glow
In each other's magnetic presence
Listen Anna, hear my words
The ones I would think you would say
If there was a you for me
When I was walking once
I saw this painted on a sign
"I don't want the verse
I just want your quarters"
They don't need me here
And I know you're there
Where the world goes by
Like the humid air
And it sticks like a busted 8-track
Everything sticks like a busted 8-track
Everything sticks until it goes away
And the proof is we don't know anyway
Anna K. and I are getting old
And we still haven't talked of the glow
In each other's magnetic presence
Listen Anna, hear my words
The ones I would think you would say
If there was a you for me
Anna K. and I are getting old
And we still haven't talked of the glow
In each other's magnetic presence
Listen Anna, hear my words
The ones I would think you would say
If there was a you for me

By: Russ Haines

---

The Banana Slugs are out in force
They make a tasty meal, of course
Suck them dry when first you meet
They're also easy to reheat
I like to call them "nanna slugs"
They're easier to catch than bugs
Banana Slugs will be your meal
In methods that I will reveal
Boil them, bake them, shake-and-bake them
Nibble on their heads and make them
Oooey, gooey, rich and chewy
Put them in a wok: chop suey
Fry them after lightly breading
All the vitamins you're getting
When you steam them, seem like drivel
Once you see how much they shrivel
They're only bitter on the outside
When you put them in a blender
You will render a meal you will remember for the rest of your life
Boiling makes a soup that's yummy
When they crawl around your tummy
As they try to get out they will scream and scream and scream
Before they come out of your throat
You must create a salty moat
When they touch salt they start to shrivel
Down your stomach it will tickle
A couple of scoops of ice cream and some chocolate
Will make you a meal that's a real banana split
You can make them into milkshakes
But you've got to remember
To clean out the blender
'Cause they kind of stick to the sides
Once, when I was standing outdoors
Barefoot, enjoying a pleasantly nice day
I discovered a Banana Slug on my foot trying to eat my toe
Suddenly I noticed more slugs coming my way
I ran, screaming, from the voracious hoard
As I still do to this day
When I find myself barefooted outdoors and see a Banana Slug
In fact, I believe Banana Slugs to be one of the most vicious
And pathological predators of human beings on the planet
There are only two reasons why we don't hear more horror stories
Of Banana Slug related deaths
First, they're not very smart
They can't plan ahead, use tools, or lure their prey with clever bait
Second, and this is the important thing to remember
If you ever find yourself in a life-threatening situation
Where a Banana Slug has the upper hand
They are very, very slow
Chop them, pound them, slice them, dice them
All of these will be quite nice, then
You can even make them into julienne fries
Any way that you prepare them
Works quite well, I shouldn't tell you
But your parents feed you slugs and call it stew
The 'Nana Slugs I'll share with you
But only if you ask me to
I think that I'll go have a snack
Please sing this song 'till I get back

By: Russ Haines

---

I'm going down, going down
Down a waterfall
I hope you catch me before I drown
I'm think I'm going down
I'm going down, going down
Down a waterfall
I think I'm falling
Falling for you
Feels like I'm falling
Falling for you
I think I'm falling for you
I think I'm falling for you
I think I'm falling for you
I'm going down, going down
Down a waterfall
I hope you catch me before I drown
I'm think I'm going down
I'm going down, going down
Down a waterfall
I hope you catch me
I'm falling for you
Feels like I'm falling
Falling for you
Falling for you
Falling for you

By: Severe Tire Damage

---

This is what happens when jazz goes bad. Very bad.

If you disliked this tune, you're sure to hate Die, Diana.

Lyrics are by Severe Tire Damage's own MBoner Lance Berc. The Portuguese lyrics are as originally written, performed through the Steve Rubin patented "Syllable On Demand" filter system. This product was not tested on laboratory animals. Dolphin Safe. Animal Action monitored by Brad Horak. This product has not been tested by the FDA.

---

Short, and fat, and smelly and lazy
The Girl with Emphysema goes bowling
And when she wheezes each one who sees her goes "ahhh"
She quivers and shakes her flesh so roughly
it's like an earthquake that when she passes each
seismograph needle goes "ahhh"
oh, how I watch her so sadly.
how, how can I tell her I loathe her?
yes, I would turn my gaze quickly,
but each day when she has to go pee,
her path thunders right in front of me.

By: Russ Haines

At the time, we wondered if everyone's favorite Texan would run for President again...

---

  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's H. Ross Perot
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's H. Ross Perot
I make more money than God
But he gets way more babes
I've got three cars I've never seen
And each car phone has an answering machine
Never bothered to vote, just bought the senate
It doesn't matter one third can't read
They'll see me on their TV screen
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's H. Ross Perot
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's H. Ross Perot
I make more money than God
But he's got a better address
If I've got all this money
Why the hell am I living in Texas?
Some say I haven't got a heart
Not true, bought myself a heart of gold
To make myself more appealing to the common man
I'll drop the "H"
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's H. Ross Perot
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's Ross Perot
America - where any kid can grow up to be a billionaire
And buy the presidency
America - where every cop will treat you like a king
Rodney King
America - where "civil rights" isn't just a word
It's two words
America - where being president isn't just a job
It's a plaything for the obscenely rich
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's Ross Perot
  Let's hear it for the status quo
  My name's Ross Perot
H. Ross Perot, you've just been inaugurated
President of the United States of America
Now what're you gonna do?
I'm buying Disneyland

By: Russ Haines

A Politically Incorrect version of the perennial Christmas favorite. The lyrics are clearly discernable in the recording and don't bear repeating here.

---

Join with us now
As Severe Tire Damage presents
A worldwide salute to Christmas
Severe Tire Damage, the only band that really cares
Will now stylistically interpret the music of the world
Through the joy of that perennial Christmas favorite
Jingle Bells
Now we travel south of the border
To our Latin neighbors whose colorful serapes and sombreros
Make a bright show as maracas, timbales
And Mexican cowbell play along
Jingle bells, dingle balls
In my Chevrolet
Oh what fun it is to ride
In East LA
Jingle balls, jingle balls
In my Chevrolet
Oh what fun it is to ride
In East LA
Next, we visit our noble dusky-skin Jamaican cousins
With their exciting primitive rhythm
Oh man, jingle all the way
Is to ride
In la ... sleigh
Uh
Jewish people can be found all over the world
And traditional music called Klezmer
Shows their cheerful disposition
Even after thousands of years of oppression by Christians
Yentel bells, yentel sells
Yentel all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open ... schlemazel
Yentel bells, yentel bells
Yentel all the way ... schlemazel
If I were a rich man
For some, Christmas means a gift
Of a pencil or other inexpensive trinket
Here's STD's tribute
To underprivileged disadvantaged in the inner city
Yo ... kick it ... word up
Like jingle, man
Pop a cap upside his head
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Kick it, homie
Word
And what would Christmas be like
Without your relatives?
Those who live in the Appalachians may never know
As we dive head-first into the shallow end of Darwin's gene pool
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh
Y'all come back now, you hear

By: Russ Haines

A University of Delaware student wrote to Severe Tire Damage asking for help in a class she was taking. She was contacting the band because one of the computers the band used was a research platform called "chocolate" which had a lot of memory. Apparently, her websearch turned up Severe Tire Damage with the keywords "chocolate", "research", and "memory". So she sent e-mail asking for help with her class project—a project involving the effects of chocolate on human memory. Oops. Severe Tire Damage decided to help.

Since she said, "...this can be dicussed [sic] in any way, so anything would help me out," the band wrote a nice song to help her out.

---

Karin Ann Phillips is a doofus.
She goes to a school in Delaware.
She is searching the web for hidden knowledge,
but she's confused, naive, and unaware.
Karin had to find some answers
for a class at the Univers'ty.
So she went to her fav'rite search engine
and typed in "chocolate", "research", and "mem-o-reeee."
The websites Karin saw were a-plenty
most of them involving sex and teens.
But some of them looked much more fulfilling
even though she doesn't know what research means.
Karin didn't pay attention to the content-
Some of them were quite irrelevant
While some had information which was useful
Karin didn't think before she went... and... she...
E-mailed every site which matched her websearch
without regard to topicality.
Even to some guys in Palo Alto
who wondered how she got into Delaware's university.
So here's where Miss Phillips gets her answer
though why she asked us we do not know-
"University" isn't spelled the way you tried to,
and "discussed" should have three esses -but not all in a row.
Everyone will surely now remember
a websearch must be done with thought and care.
Blindly sending email like Karin Phillips
will get you laughed at in the U of Delaware.
...she attends classes at the U of Delaware.
...that's Karen Phillips of the U of Delaware.

By: Russ Haines

Lance Berc was Severe Tire Damage's Bandwidth Wizard and Fog Machine Addict. His father discovered that by listening to Severe Tire Damage music non-stop all day long, his ISP wouldn't disconnect after fifteen minutes of inactivity. He (and his coworkers) probably knew the lyrics to Severe Tire Damage's music better than the band.

So it seemed worthwhile to give him his own song. The choruses are supposed to be insidious enough to get stuck in your head for days. It works!

The lyrics are from three separate emails from someone who wrote fan mail to Severe Tire Damage. They were stream-of-consciousness ramblings that were so rhythmic and catchy they got cut-and-pasted into the song. They have nothing to do with Lance's Dad. Cool, though, huh?

---

GUITAR INTRO
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
I move in small circles, not small enough to hide.
I loved that Catholic boy and the people that died.
Though life's a bitch, if it's not a destination,
then why all these lives of quiet desperation?
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
Pen to paper or index to key,
it's all the same, just a need to be free.
A rhyme or a reason; things to express,
if not, what's the point? Let's just all regress.
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
Earliest memory: sister's silhouette-
out of shower, very wet.
Mother's slap: frontal lobe.
Sister covered in a robe, vision flashing like a strobe.
--Life's small vignettes--
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
BASS SOLO
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
It's late and I ramble.
I'm not a musician: I have trouble playing the radio.
I have no interest in fame,
fame is just shame hiding under an assumed name.
  Lance's Dad, Lance's Dad:
  This song was written for
  Lance's Dad...
  It may be listened to by...
  Expressly for the purpose of...
  Solely for the use of...
GUITAR OUTRO

By: Russ Haines

---

Huh!
Look at them nerds
That's the way to live
You're playing guitar on KQED
That ain't working, they call it research
MBone for nothing, get your chips for free
Yeah, that ain't working, they call it research
Let me tell you, those guys ain't dumb
Maybe get a blister on your little finger
Maybe get some carpal tunnel syndrome
We got to install Microsoft Windows
Read some Dilbert, flame some Usenet newsgroups
I gotta hack now, read a-b-p-e
Answer hatemail from a LUser at webTV
See the faggot with the glasses and bad haircut?
Yeah buddy, that's his own hair
That little faggot IPOed a high tech startup
That little faggot he a billionaire
We got to install Microsoft Windows
Change some passwords, reboot without a reason
Send out a ping flood
Attack with finger, Redhat UNIX and TCP-IP
I should've learned quadratic sieve factoring
I could've learned to play them drums
Look at that man, he's drunk in public
Yeah buddy, we could have some fun
What's up there, wass up there? A chief technologist
He's banging on them bongos like a chimpanzee!
That's not workin', they call it "research"
Playing on the MBone, get your chips for free!
We got to install Microsoft Windows
Worship Kibo, port Apache to a BeBox
I've got to hack now, get root at NASA
I've got to rewrite my old CV
No way that's working, they call it "research!"
Pictures in the paper, even on TV
That ain't workin, they call it "research"
MBone for nothin, get your chips for free
Mbone for nothin'
Chips for free
MBone for nothin'
Chips for free
MBone for no one
Ch ch ch Chimps
Chipa!
Hey hey hey I got a pocket protector
Ya dweeb
Hey stop that
Nerd!
Hey, I told you to stop that, I'll beat you up
Dweeb!
I'll, I'll ... I'll run away and cry

By: Russ Haines

---

It was an experimental piece. An experiment gone horridly wrong. There might have been a story in the music, as it starts with a Psychedelic Monk Chant and ends with The Guitarist Getting Electrocuted. Make up your own story...

By: Russ Haines

This is a scratch track for a song the band never bothered to learn.

---

The music starts, the singer screams, there's feedback all to hell
I think I've played this gig before
I'm burning brain cells and there's ringing in my ears
Pretty soon the cops will shut us down
Impenetrable fog begins to fill the room
I guess the drugs are finally kicking in
The words confuse the audience like puzzled dogs
No one will dance until the drums kick in
  We get a little older nearly every day
  Losing hair and gaining weight
  At least we have a good time unlike some other bands
  We party hard and stay out late
Because we're not dead yet
Not dead yet
Not dead yet
...Not dead yet
We've got a CD that'll never sell
Our story is in papers we can't read
Publicity is great but all our friends are sick of it
And the TV doesn't care how we sound
  Even this song was ripped off from some other band
  Maybe Green Day or the Ramones
  But every day I wake up thanking god I'm not a dick
  He's the guitarist in someone else's band
Because we're not dead yet
Not dead yet
Not dead yet
...Not dead yet
The Grateful Dead, are, and that's how we feel
And joke 'em if they can't take a fuck
Your Monty Python tapes are twenty-five years old
The clever oblique reference is stale
  There's nothing noble about getting old
  But there's not much you can do
  So buy some t-shirts, condoms, and your own stick on tattoo
  And sing along with me...
Because we're not dead yet
Not dead yet
Not dead yet
...Not dead yet

By: Russ Haines

At Severe Tire Damage Studios there was a little ceramic figure of a frog with a sign: "You'd Be Happy, Too, If You Could Eat What Bugs You."

A gift from Russ' Grandmother, the box it came in called it an "Ornamental Comic Toad". The word "ornamental" must have distinguished it from "practical" toads. And they must have called it "Comic" to keep people from accidentally buying those "Ornamental Tragic Toads" we kept seeing advertised.

The box also called it a "Ceramic Happy Frog".

Go figure...

---

What is an Ornamental Comic Toad?
A question that is quickly posed-
A subject of which no one knows-
I want an...
It's something that I feel I'm owed
And I will share with you...
You'd be happy too,
if you could eat what bugs you.
What is an Ornamental Comic Toad?
A question that is quickly posed-
A subject of which no one knows-
...but me...
TRUMPET SOLO
What is an Ornamental Comic Toad?
A question that is quickly posed-
A subject of which no one knows-
I want an...
It's something that I feel I'm owed
And I will share with you...
You'd be happy too,
if you could eat what bugs you.
What is an Ornamental Comic Toad?
A question that is quickly posed-
A subject of which no one knows-
...but me...

By: Russ Haines (with apologies to the Police)

An ode to the MBone. Based on a true story.

---

We've been on since they made ya.
Lots packets are nothing major.
We've played on you again and again,
it's a Wednesday.
PARC is where you're made up,
Ron Frederick did some clean-up.
CUSeeMe just is not correct
it's a bad way.
  Rock Spam: You don't have to play on the MBone
  Rock Spam: You don't have to play on the MBone
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
We used to use DEC Alpha,
after dinner we'd walk down to ya.
Now we try on an Indy-
we're gonna need new IP address tonight.
ISDN got some shake-up,
turns out there's too much break-up.
We've played the streets for money,
now we'll be on TV tonight...
  Roxanne: You don't have to play on the MBone
  Rock Spam: You don't have to play on the MBone
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)
    Rock Spam (Play on the MBone)

By: ? (Names removed to protect the guilty)

Three musicians, three a.m. in the studio. Time for a break. "Let's play something country!" Nothing arranged, just made it up on the fly. ...tape was rolling...

---

I've got bread
I've got cheese
I've got a sandwich
with no mold.
I've got bread
I've got cheese
I've got a sandwich
with some mold.
I've got mayonnaise
I've got mustard
I've got everything
that I know of.
And it's good
It tastes good.
It's the best
that I've had.
...if I had lettuce
it'd be better
but I can't think what to say.
And...
  ...and...
ummmm... ketchup...
But the ketchup's
not there.
I had bean sprouts
but they... they died
cuz I didn't eat them
for four days.
And...
  ...and...
...I dropped my stick...
Mustard Mastered Ketchup
Anything you want,
It's good.
HOEDOWN GUITAR SOLO
I got mustard
I got ketchup
I got mayonnaise
I got a sandwich
I got angry
I broke the refrigerator
And I'm really
feeling bad
I got mustard
  ...ketchup...
    ...mayonnaise...
      ...SPAMMMMMMM!
But it's better.

By: Russ Haines

A scratch demo from Russ that never got tried. The melody might have been borrowed from a Buick commercial or something...

By: Russ Haines

SLORC (A Public Service Announcement)

From time to time, Severe Tire Damage is asked to support a worthy cause. The following is a Public Service Announcement for SoundWood: a programme to ensure the availability of exotic hardwoods used in the making of musical instruments.

The nice lady from SoundWood in Cambridge, England sent a nice letter to Severe Tire Damage with a note from Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead asking for the band's support (along with a host of other musicians) in saving rainforest trees for musical instruments. While this seems a worthwhile cause, the guitarist was puzzled by the "Organization:" line in the email which read:

"Organization: Free Burma-No Petro-dollars for SLORC"

Which caused said guitarist to ask the bassist, who is a mathematical cryptographer what this might mean. The bass player responded, "SLORC is the junta of Burma at the moment." Which caused a song.

None of which has anything to do with this:

Public Service Announcement

Hello, I'm Russ Haines, guitarist of Severe Tire Damage, the first band on the Internet. Have you ever considered the humble electric guitar? It's made of a variety of rare and exotic woods, from the neck, which is usually made from heartwood of maple, to the body, which is matched pieces of mahogany, to the fretboard, which is a single piece of very heavy ebony. These are only some of the woods used in making musical instruments; many others, equally or even more rare, are needed to make everything from cellos to oboes.

Many of the sources for these woods are either gone from overuse, or are currently being devastated in clear-cutting and wasteful harvesting practices. It's time for musicians to take a stand in protecting the sources of these precious materials. You can help by going to the SoundWood website and following a few simple instructions. Musicians from Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead to Yehudi Menuhin are agreed that this is a needed measure to ensure that musicians in the following generations will be able to have the same access to needed materials that we do.

My guitar couldn't have been made without Brazilian mahogany book matched slabs. The fretboard is a single piece of the heart of ebony, which is almost impossible to find anywhere due to overuse. The neck is made from quartersawn hard maple, which although renewable, is often wasted in baseball bats and other frivolous uses. But this is just the tip of the iceberg, there are many other instruments that use much more exotic materials.

This bow is made from Hawaiian Koa wood. The hair used to string it is made from the very rare blonde Hawaiian. Nothing else can produce the sweet tone so desired by classical musicians.

My banjo, in addition to being made from various rare woods, also has this drumhead. Which is made from the dried and stretched testicle-skin of a platypus. Nothing else gives quite the same response. Don't worry, though, about the platypus, it only takes one testicle to make each banjo head. It's a renewable resource.

This hand drum is made from endangered alpaca skin, which is so rare in the wild that it is now a protected species. No other instrument of this type will be made again during any of our lifetimes. The knocker inside is the dried eyeball of the now extinct flightless dodo bird. The combination sound may never be heard again on this planet.

Please consider the source of the materials in your next instrument before you purchase it. When the world runs out of stretched-testicle-skin-drumheads, and the need is great, someone may take yours away. Let's work together to make certain that this nevers happens. Speaking in support of SoundWood, I'm Russ Haines of Severe Tire Damage, the only band that really cares.

Samples from, by, and about Severe Tire Damage, edited by Russ Haines

A "Dance Remix" of Severe Tire Damage quotes and clips, samples of bandmembers saying things they shouldn't, and fan comments—all set to a catchy drum beat.

Based on a true story.

---

Russ sez:
My keyboard was in the shop, and my guitar was at the rehearsal space. The only way I could make music was to do some dub from crud already on the drive of my DAW. Oh yeah, the telephone switcher control codes beeping in the middle of the tune could do interesting things to European switches.

By: Russ Haines

Fun with a voltage-triggered envelope filter on guitar.

By: Russ Haines

Hate the Spice Girls? Enjoy this version. Made in two hours from a MIDI file and sung by someone who'd never heard the original version.

"But Daaaaavvvvveeee,
I don't want to sing another Spice Girls song.
They suck!"

---

Yo, kick it
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
I wanna really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig
If you want my future, forget my past
If you wanna get with me, better make it fast
Now, don't go wasting my precious time
Get your act together, we could be just fine
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
I wanna really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
Oh, what you think about that, now you know how I feel
Say you could handle my love, are you for real?
I won't be hasty, I'll give you a try
If you really bug me, then I'll say goodbye
Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
I wanna really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
So here's a story from A to Z
You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully
We got Em in the place who likes it in your face
We got G like MC who likes it on an-
Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady
And as for me, haha, you'll see
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down and wind it all around
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
If you wanna be my lover
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down and wind it all around
If you wanna be my lover

Traditional Song

Severe Tire Damage's occasional saxophonist Ethan Robertson sang lead on this traditional tune that features digeridoo, tipple, and a wine-gargling solo.

---

Russ sez:
Don't EVER try to gargle wine. Incidentally, this was the first thing ever recorded at Severe Tire Damage Studios.

By: Russ Haines

A scratch demo from Russ that the band never tried. He thought it would get played as a ska tune; Severe Tire Damage didn't do ballads.