Well, I remember as it were a meal ago
Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter
May have nestled its way into his mighty throat
Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank down
The cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling machine
Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator
Tommy the Cat had many a story to tell
But it was a rare occasion such as this that he did
She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the
Oldest of tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days
The sight was beyond belief
Many a head snapped for double--even triple--takes as this vivacious
Feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway where the most
Virile of the young tabbies were known to hang out
They hung in droves
Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in one place
And that was O'Malley's Alley
The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended)
But not even a muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered up into
The heart of the alleyway
She knew what she wanted
She was lookin' for that stud bull
She was looking for that he cat
And that was me
Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto thee
Say, baby, do you want to lay down with me?
Say, baby, do you want to lay down by my side?
Ah, baby, do you want to lay down with me?
Say, baby?
Say, baby?


When he was young you'd not find him doing well in school,
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule,
He has no time for farmer's daughters.
Alienated from the clique society,
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says John this is not the way life's supposed to be.
Don't you see the life that you are missing?
And he says
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark May morning .
To bring his catch back to this small community.
He doesn't see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled,
The fog rolled in it started raining.
The starboard bow. Oh my God we're going down!
They do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
I'll live and die a fisherman.
Calling John the fisherman.


My name is Mud
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is mud and it's always been
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-♥♥♥♥♥ you've ever seen
I dress in blue-yes navy blue
From head to toe I'm rather drab except my patent shoes
I make 'em shine, well most the time
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine
Six foort two and rude as hell
I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell
My name is Mud
My name is Mud,
But call me Alowishus Devadander Abercrombie
That's long for Mud, so I've been told
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold
I've got my pride, I drink my wine
I'd drink the finest except I haven't earned a dime in several months
Or were it years
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears
We had our words, a common spat
So I kissed him upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat
My name is Mud



In a town in southernmost Sicily
Lived a family too proud to be poor
In the year that fever took father away
They hastened for American shores
Now a mother and her son are standing in line
It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
And they look to the Statue of Liberty (Liberty, Liberty)

For the boy we have american life

Ong is a Laotian refugee
He works in the audio trade
The smoke from the flux is filling his lungs
He's earning minimum wage
Spending spare time down on San Pablo Ave
Once a week gets a woman for the night
And he writes home tales of prosperity (prosperity, prosperity)

For the boy we have american life
For the boy we have american life

Bob is an unemployed veteran
Born and bred in the South Bronx
He's living off the streets down in east L.A
Residing in a cardboard box
Now he plays a little guitar and he has a small dog
Searching for aluminum cans
And he holds on tight to his dignity (dignity, dignity)

He was born into american life
He was born into american life
For the boy we have american life


Too many puppies are being shot in the dark.
Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spilled so that we may maintain
Our oil fields.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies are taught to heal.
Too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts that buy mistresses
Sleek animal pelts.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Skinny was born in a bathtub
And he grew so incredibly thin
Even the tide from the eyedropper sucked him in
Skinny never knew any questions
Skinny never looked alike
Skinny sold somethin' every single night
Skinny sold a soldier to me
Skinny sold the wife
Skinny sold a suction cup and a knife
Skinny found a hello dolly record in the house.
Sold it to a truck driver in the night.
Too many puppies with guns in their hands.
Too many puppies in foreign lands.
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and placed upon the war machine.
Too many puppies are just like me.
Too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again,
Too many puppies, too many dead men.


He wasn't lookin' for fanfare or fame
but it all came around just the same.
He then met a girl with desire in her eye,
he gave her love, she took his name.

The times they were good, the times they were bad,
most times it was just in between.
The hard pill he swallowed was the times that they had,
she put on display for all to be seen.

Some find their solace in work or the lord,
she was quite content in her dream.
When his eyes they burned from the bright lime light,
he found comfort in the bottle of Ol' Jimmy Beam.

One day from the depths of his deep darkened hole,
he reached out for something to feel.
She offered back nothin' but lack of respect
so he left himself out with two barrels of steel.

She cried in the day, she cried in the night.
She cried loudest when someone was near.
Whether crying for him or she cried for herself,
the bigger the camera, the bigger the tear.

Most folks agree that she was living a hell
and publicly she showed her pain.
And never once was there a thought for herself,
and the ever-growing slices of fortune and fame.

Now on the coattails of a dead man she'll ride
on the coattails of a dead man she'll ride.
On the coattails of a dead man she'll ride she'll ride,
on the coattails of a dead man she'll ride she'll ride high.

Primus Sucks!