LB0J Live: 4-5-2026

THE POWER CREATIVE

April 4, 2026

THE LYRICS

FINGER IN THE PICKLE JAR

(L. O’Neal)

Well, you can stay here for free if you bring your own sheets

But there’s no yodeling past ten o’clock

Because the preacher upstairs is rehearsing his prayers

And the novelist has writer’s block

There’s a privy out back by the hobo shack

And some whisky in the catacomb

There’s a dog on the floor and the sign on the door

Says ‘Welcome to our humble home.’

Well, there’s a midwife on call with some grain alcohol

If you can’t make it to the old sawbones

Don’t mind the man in the chair with the Tupperware

Of old fingernails and kidney stones

There’s a rod and a reel and a pond full of eel

And you can squeeze ‘em to make caviar

We got skeleton keys made from the bones of Shawnees

And a finger in the pickle jar

Welcome in, the fun’s just about to start

Tell your next of kin where to donate your heart

The guy with the banjo most certainly can go to prison in the sheriff’s car

Pluck your mandolin strings ’cause there’s far worse things than a finger in the pickle jar

The undertaker stopped by with a three-month supply

Of hydrochloride and formaldehyde

Legend has it the ghost of the previous host

Can be seen dangling by the fireside

There’s something there on the ground, kinda lumpy and brown

Take your chances it’s a chocolate bar

We got a half-dozen eggs that seem to be sprouting legs

And a finger in the pickle jar

Welcome in, the fun’s just about to start

Tell your next of kin where to donate your heart

Ask nice and I’ll bet you they’ll probably let you pet Cerberus, the wild jaguar

Try the buffalo wings ’cause there’s far worse things than a finger in the pickle jar

There’s no Wi-Fi for a good fifty miles

There’s no internet or TV

Feels like something right out of the X-Files

But what the hell do you want for free?

Welcome in, the fun’s just about to start

Tell your next of kin where to donate your heart

Don’t mind the fanatic who’s chained in the attic unless you hear his steel guitar

Stay for our little flings cause there’s far worse things than a finger in the pickle jar

Stay for our little flings cause there’s far worse things than a finger in the pickle jar

INSIDE RECESS

(L. O’Neal)

Listen up, you little cheaters and you vile paste eaters

I don’t have to be a party to this shit

Got a Masters in Accounting but the bills are ever mounting

And I ain’t too proud to beg or babysit

If it was strictly up to me

You’d be out in the ninety-nine degree

Heat wave for all of eternity

Or at least until the bell rings and we’re free

Now I’m fending off invaders in the guise of second graders

Who have not yet mastered simple bathroom skills

I had so much hope and promise, now Maureen, Janeane and Thomas

Have me reaching for my high blood pressure pills

If it was totally my call

You’d be out in the record-breaking squall

Chin-deep in category-five rainfall

And forced to play a game of tetherball

But it’s inside recess, picking up the pieces

Of my shattered dreams

The professional recruiter that I found through the computer

Said my resume was certain to impress

Any financial department manager except my heart went

When she labeled me as a work-in-progress

So now I watch the time creep past

In Mrs. Valentiniano’s class

In case of emergency, break the glass

And cut my throat and free my sorry ass

‘Cause it’s inside recess, picking up the pieces

Of my shattered dreams

Just a substitute teacher taming wild creatures

Driven to extremes by second grader schemes

It’s always inside recess, stepping on the pieces

Of some goddamn game

Just a substitute teacher overrun by creatures

Way too tough to tame

Yeah, it’s inside recess, picking up the pieces

Of my shattered dreams

Just a substitute teacher taming wild creatures

Driven to extremes, by second grader schemes

Evil eight-year-old regimes, kiss goodbye my cherished dreams

SENIOR SURFARI

(L. O’Neal)

There’s a swingin’ little place by Cascadia Key

With a bouncer at the door who will check your I.V.

They call it Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

They call it Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

They call it Senior Surfari, and they take Medicare Part B

Well, you can loosen your tie and remove your cufflinks

They’re crushing E.D. medications and energy drinks

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari no one cares what family thinks

Senior Surfari, they don’t play Bingo here

There’s a Grateful Dead tribute band that nightly appears

Senior Surfari, there’s eleven stocked bars

Bring your government checks and your DNRs (DNRs)

Yeah, you can do the Watusi, Mashed potato and Flip

There’s a doctor on call in case you throw out a hip

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari, they don’t recommend you skinny dip

Senior Surfari, get your supplement fix

Where the Meals on Wheels come on twenty-inch slicks

Senior Surfari, they got dentures in jars

Bring your Poligrip and your DNRs (DNRs)

They got combat shuffleboard and hardcore horseshoes

The Activities Director also does tattoos

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari (Senior Surfari)

Down at the Senior Surfari, sorry they don’t play Fox News

Down at the Senior Surfari, sorry they don’t play Fox News

Down at the Senior Surfari, bring your orthopedic shoes

THE VALEDICTORIAN

(L. O’Neal)

The valedictorian took the stage to address

Her fellow graduates of Piney Mountain H.S.

She said, “Follow your passion and as you progress

Through life you’ll be sure to succeed

These moments we’ll cherish, and the memories we’ve made

Will help to make a difference and our friendships won’t fade

As we enter the workforce and determine our trade

We reflect on the past that we leave

But I know some of you, like Sharon and Sue

Will just end up as baby machines

And I know half the guys will be tending fries

At McDonalds and protesting vaccines

And that dude from my math class who sent porn through email

He doesn’t have a prayer of not ending up in jail

And Charlene who got drunk from eating one fruit cocktail

Will no doubt be the first to crossbreed

And I know most of you will be sniffing glue

Behind the Dollar General tonight

I’m certain those not shot on the Waffle House lot

Will instigate this weekend’s knife fight

As we exit these halls and leave our mark on these walls                            

All I ask is think of me now and then

I’ll call an Uber and flee and put a blindfold on me

‘Cause I don’t want to see you losers again

And I know all of you voted ‘Most Likely to

Not Survive a Mudslide” certainly won’t

And for those thinking twice, here’s a word of advice:

         Don’t

As we exit these halls and leave our mark on these walls

All I ask is think of me now and then

I’ll call an Uber and flee and put a blindfold on me

‘Cause I don’t want to see you losers again

No, I don’t want to see you losers again

GO UGLY EARLY, WEST LAFAYETTE

(L. O’Neal)

Well, I took my favorite squeeze to Harry’s Chocolate Shop

Two steps ahead of justice and that flatfoot cop

I slammed a stack of cabbage on the countertop

Hopped-up on giggle juice and Smith Brothers cough drops

So, what’s the drift of your latest grift?

I just hit Indiana for the graveyard shift

Go ugly early, West Lafayette

This is as good as it’s gonna get

You’ve got real talents we ain’t seen yet

So go ugly early, Lafayette

Two-dozen fancy flavors made my belly flop

She ordered red raspberry and a soda pop

A pineapple parfait with cherries on the top

And after four phosphates I thought she’d never stop

Hey, what’s the joke? I’m going broke

I’m watching my ill-gotten gains go up in smoke

Go ugly early, West Lafayette

This is as good as it’s gonna get

She made me feel like I’d lost a bet

So go ugly early, Lafayette

She’s bound to be the source of all my bad luck

But I can’t let go ‘cause she’s the best thing I know

And if it kills me, I’ll die standing up

Hey, what’s the joke? I’m going broke

I’m watching my ill-gotten gains go up in smoke

Go ugly early, West Lafayette

This is as good as it’s gonna get

Now I panhandle for cigarettes

So go ugly early, Lafayette

She’s bound to be the source of all my hard luck

But I can’t let go ‘cause she’s the best thing I know

And if it kills me, I’ll die standing up

A caramel nut sundae and banana split

She ordered root beer floats and sucked down every bit

I’ll party like a prince and make the best of it

Until they find these dollar bills are counterfeit

It’s much too late, I tempted fate

I’ll be bribing old Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates

Go ugly early, West Lafayette

This is as good as it’s gonna get

Strike up the band and a string quartet

And go ugly early, Lafayette

Go ugly early, West Lafayette

This is as good as it’s gonna get

Can’t get to Heaven knee-deep in debt

So go ugly early, Lafay—

Go ugly early, Lafay—

Go ugly early, Lafayette

MOONLIT SKY

(K. Dodson)

We used to sit and watch the sun slide behind the clouds

Never say what we were thinking

As time went by, all we could say was goodbye

And after all is said and done,

It might have been more fun

If I’d stayed with you, doing all the things that we could do

But it’s all over, watching this moonlit sky

Your smile will surely light up every night

These fragments of memory and what I believe to be

Might never have been just a story filled in by you

And this soundtrack that remains, a melody that quickly changed

This rhythm slows and all that was scatters in the wind

But it’s all over, watching this moonlit sky

Your smile will surely light up every night

It’s all over, watching this moonlit sky

Your smile will surely light up every night

Don’t pretend that you were always the one

A fair share of blame lies in every sun

We used to sit and watch the sun slide behind the clouds

Never say what we were thinking

As time went by, all we could say was goodbye

And after all is said and done,

It might have been more fun

If I’d stayed with you, doing all the things that we could do

But it’s all over, watching this moonlit sky

Your smile will surely light up every night

But it’s all over, watching this moonlit sky

Your smile will surely light up every night,

Every night

I TAUGHT THE CAT TO DO MY TAXES

(L. O’Neal)

I taught the cat to do my taxes

You can too!

Just send for my handy book

It’s tried and true!

Enclose a post-paid envelope

I’ll throw in pictures of the Pope

I taught the cat to do my taxes

You can too!

Learned gastroenterology

On Christmas break

And fixed my next-door neighbor’s

Chronic bellyache

These arcane gifts can all be yours

Join other brave entrepreneurs

Just call the number on your screen

It’s yours to take!

Well, these are complicated rhymes

For complicated times

But nothing in this life is ever free

I’ve got the gifts of the divine

For nineteen-ninety-nine

And mine come with a cash-back guarantee

I mastered astrophysics

And I’ll show you how

The secrets of the universe

I will endow

Just sign up for my online course

A one-man marvel tour de force

My webinar is starting soon

So join me now!

Well, these are complicated rhymes

For complicated times

But nothing in this life is ever free

Unlock the psychic force inside

Only I’m board-qualified

And mine comes with a lifetime warranty

They said teaching a baby math

Could not be done

But calculus for tots is real

Just ask my son

So send a check, do not delay

You’re underdressed for Judgment Day

Without my priceless wisdom

Fit for everyone

Well, these are complicated rhymes

For complicated times

But nothing in this life is really free

I’ve got the gifts of the divine

For nineteen-ninety-nine

And mine come with my signed biography

HEART SHAPED LIKE THE DEVIL

(L. O’Neal)

She’s got a lifetime paid subscription to Colliers magazine

And her vaccination records from 1917

She’s got a tattoo on her butt cheek of Roy Rogers and his horse

A diploma on her back wall from a correspondence course

She’s got a stack of rumba records and jazz seventy-eights

She can recite “The Second Coming” from William Butler Yeats

She’s got a tuba in the corner that she never learned to play

And a print by Norman Rockwell celebrating VE Day

You’ll never know what you signed up when you volunteered last May

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil on her autographed X-ray

She’s got an ice box full of rations from the Second World War

An assortment of hard liquor from a hotel minibar

She’s got a taxidermied teacup poodle eternally at rest

On her secondhand credenza standing on three legs at best

Must be a thousand things you could be doing on this pleasant day

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil on her autographed X-ray

Ohh, wee-oh bom bom, wee-oh bom ba-day

Ohh, wee-oh bom bom, wee-oh bom ba-day

Ohh, wee-oh bom bom, wee-oh bom ba-day

Ohh, wee-oh bom bom, wee-oh bom ba-day

You’ll never know what you got into on this year’s Giving Tuesday

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil and you’ve seen it on display

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil and you’ve seen it on display

Must be a thousand things you could be doing on this Saturday

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil and that devil’s here to stay

She’s got a heart shaped like the devil and that devil’s here to stay

THE FOUR CORNERS

(L. O’Neal)

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

If you want to stand in all four states at once, you know

I’ll tell you the Four Corners is the place you got to go

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

If you got no better place to drag your poor shadow

I’ll tell you the Four Corners will help you get there, bro

Ain’t got no engineering degree, don’t know cybersecurity

And data analytics leave me numb

I’ll never be an entrepreneur or a social media influencer

I was voted Most Likely to Turn out Dumb

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Teacher labeled me unfit, unreachable and slow

But I showed her ‘cause I work for a federal bureau

What’s this blockchain technology? Ain’t heard of cryptocurrency

You’re talkin’ fifty miles over my head

Gene splicing? Nope, it don’t mean squat, when a first-grade education’s all ya got

And the library’s full of books that I ain’t read

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

If your wife done left and took the kids to Tokyo

I’ll tell you the Four Corners can help to soothe the blow

There’s drones so high up in the sky, down here on earth I’m askin’ why

They can’t fix all these goddamn traffic jams

They say I’m old and out of touch, I guess I ain’t evolved that much

Since the days of phonographs and telegrams

They call Utah the Beehive State ‘cause I got stung by my soul mate

And Arizona just left me deserted

In Colorado things turned rough, the Rocky Mountains called my bluff

But in New Mexico things got perverted

Oh, Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

If you want to stand in all four states at once, you know

I’ll tell you the Four Corners is the place you got to go

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico

If you want to stand in all four states at once, you know

I’ll tell you the Four Corners is the place you got to go

[COVER SONG]

TOOK MY BOOMBOX TO HELL

(L. O’Neal)

They say you’re born with nothing and with nothing you’ll leave

So enjoy ‘em while you’re here, all the gifts you receive

They say you can’t take it with you when it’s your time to go

But I’m here to tell you, brother, that it just isn’t so

I made some cash in my day and I threw it away

Let the orphans go hungry on Thanksgiving Day

Left a mountain of debt for the kids to repay

Sorry that I can’t stay, but that’s okay

Just don’t pray, I wasn’t saved anyway

No, I wasn’t saved anyway

I took my boombox to hell so I had plenty of tunes

With the other impenitent, selfish tycoons

Playing “Tainted Love” and “99 Red Balloons”

Till the mixtape melts and we’re through, so true and gone too soon

They say you’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t

They say good things come to those who wait but they probably won’t

They say that it isn’t over till the fat lady sings

So I took the bitch with me, clipped her halo and wings

With my rig on my shoulder blasting “Sweet Child o’ Mine”

“I Want to Know What Love is” and “Summer of ‘69”

Swapped my name for a number and I waited in line

No one’s serving chilled wine, but that’s just fine

I’ll do my time, I never was too divine

No, I never was too divine

I took my boombox to hell so I’d have all of my faves

For the Infernal Fest and the unrighteous raves

Playing “Funkytown” and cuts from Permanent Waves

Till the mixtape melts in the blaze, the end of days for always

I took my boombox to hell to muffle out all the pain

From the torture and terror of Lucifer’s reign

Playing “Walk This Way” and “Insane in the Membrane”

Till the mixtape melts in the flames, and I’ve shamed the family name

I’ve shamed the family name

I’ve shamed the family name

[COVER SONG]

EMPTY INSIDE

(K. Dodson)

What I seem to take and what I seem to make

Only bring me down

Still it only seems always in my dreams

I’m found, I’m found

‘Cause I’m empty inside, empty inside

I can feel it

I’m empty inside, empty inside

Now, if I were to say, please won’t you stay

In my heart

I never meant the pain, but it just remains

So hard, so hard

‘Cause I’m empty inside, empty inside

I can feel it

I’m empty inside, empty inside

This much I know is what we are

It’s only realized when we go far

What I seem to make and what I seem to take

Only bring me down

Still it always seems only in my dreams

I’m found, I’m found

‘Cause I’m empty inside, empty inside

I can feel it

I’m empty inside, empty inside

I’m empty inside, empty inside

I can feel it

I’m empty inside, empty inside

I OWE IT ALL TO WITCHCRAFT

(L. O’Neal)

You can accuse me of being too greedy

I hear those bullshit complaints all the time 

I took a luxury cruise to Tahiti

And did it all on the company’s dime

Then I dined al fresco in San Francisco

Rode the jet skis in Paradise Bay

And I owe it all to witchcraft

I recommend it for getting your way

Well, I was once just another douche rocket

Another cog in the company wheel

I got my dignity caught in the sprocket

My fall from grace was both sick and surreal

With a new appearance and some perseverance

Went from peon to muckety-muck

And I owe it all to witchcraft

I recommend it for changing your luck

Well, you can spend your career on the bottom-most tier

Watch the world pass you by as you sink

Let the assholes get rich as you rot in the ditch

‘Cause it all goes by in a blink

Just step up, don’t be shy, give black magic a try

I can hook you up, what do you think?

Well, you can spend all your time at the back of the line

Let the great unwashed fall where they may

Or tell off-color jokes with the country club folks

Or go yachting off Spain, either way

I’ve got just what you need if you want to succeed

I can hook you up, what do you say?

They used to laugh and call me an ass ratchet

I was the target of every blowhard

If there’s a flight to Jamaica, I catch it

And charge mojitos to my company card

Now they call me sir and pay for my chauffeur

And book spa treatments while I’m lounging in bed

And I owe it all to witchcraft

I recommend it for getting ahead

Yeah, I owe it all to witchcraft

I recommend it for getting ahead

DOG DON’T CARE IT’S SUNDAY

(L. O’Neal)

Mama’s in her Sunday best

Daddy’s in his suit and vest

Church bells ringing far and wide

But last night left me liquefied

Sister’s in her Mary Janes

While I drag round this ball and chain

They say what goes round comes around

But last night plowed me underground

And the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Hell, it might as well be Monday

Mama tells me, “Sonny, one day

You’ll regret the things you done.”

But the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Preacher said my soul was cursed

Just one way to get me reversed

Confess your sins and choose a side

But last night left me calcified

And the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Hell, it might as well be Monday

Mama tells me, “Sonny, one day

You’ll regret the things you done.”

But the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Well, he’s layin’ in that same old spot seems like eternity

And he ain’t got no appointments and he’s got to no place to be

Well, he’s wearing out a patch of rug just like he always does

If his soul is bound for dog hell he won’t even care because

The dog don’t care it’s Sunday

‘Cause  the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Hell, it might as well be Monday

Mama tells me, “Sonny, one day

You’ll regret the things you done.”

‘Cause  the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

Hell, it might as well be Monday

Mama tells me, “Sonny, one day

You’ll regret the things you done.”

But the dog don’t care

Hasn’t left that chair

No, the dog don’t care it’s Sunday

HERE ON THE GROUND

(K. Dodson)

Too many lights in the back of my head

Too many things that I think I said

What did I do last night is the most asked question

Too many lines that keep coming up blank

Too many things that I think I think

What am I doing lying here on the ground?

You know I must’ve been out of my head

A religious experience, I thought I was dead

Till I woke up here on the ground  (Here on the ground)

Here on the ground

Too many nights in this holy ghost town

Too many nights waking up face down

How do I get myself in these situations?

Too many fights that I think I fought

Too many things that I think I thought

I thought I’d blame the whole damn thing on the wrong medication

You know I must’ve been out of my head

A religious experience, I thought I was dead

Till I woke up here on the ground  (Here on the ground)

Here on the ground

PAPER AIRPLANE TO THE SUN

(L. O’Neal)

I took a paper airplane to the sun

And checked a can of gasoline

And when the No Smoking light flickered on

I lit up the in-flight magazine

You say I’m ten cents short of a nickel

The elevator doesn’t reach the top floor

You say I’m out of my depth in a puddle, that’s for sure

I took my box of crayons to the Louvre

And made an impressionistic splash

When the curators scoffed and disapproved

I gave the Mona Lisa a mustache

You say I’m one clown short of a circus

His baths were much too hot as a kid

You say I surely didn’t do it on purpose, yes I did

Mom always said God forgot to add a brain

Put him back in, he’s not done

One locomotive short of a moving train

Like a paper airplane to the sun

I took a piggy bank to Grandpa’s wake

So I could pay my last respects

And I exclaimed the body must be fake

It’s done with visual effects

You say my switch got stuck in the middle

I’ve got delusions of adequacy

But what I wouldn’t give for a little sympathy

Mom always said God forgot to add a brain

Put him back in, he’s not done

One locomotive short of a moving train

Like a paper airplane to the sun

Like a paper airplane to the sun

Like a paper airplane to the sun

[COVER SONG]

MY AFTERMARKET HEART

(L. O’Neal)

Connect the parts

And send a current to my aftermarket heart

Just one jump start

Crank the ignition on my aftermarket heart

Just hook up twelve volts to my bolts

Connect the parts

Take the controls

And add a fresh fuse to my aftermarket soul

Close the venthole

Add new suspension to my aftermarket soul

Just put some rampage in my gauge

Take the controls

All at once the flywheel turned and the pistons re-engaged

The camshaft came alive and all that power was uncaged

A bolt of lightning struck the block, a vengeful act of God

My aftermarket heart ran out of gas and blew a rod

And no mechanic can save me now…no way, no how

And no insurance can bail me out…no way, no how

Get realigned

Connect the circuits to my aftermarket mind

We’re riding blind

A lack of spark derails my aftermarket mind

Check Engine Light glows, my brain slows

Most every time

All at once the engine revved and the wheels gripped the road

The crankshaft slipped to overdrive and then to overload

A flash flood trashed the floorboards and the intake valve shot craps 

My aftermarket heart then sank just as the bridge collapsed

No search and rescue can save me now…no way, no how

DEAD MAN’S POLKA

(L. O’Neal)

Wipe that stupid smile off your face

We’re heading for the cliff this time

It’s a little more than just a fall from grace

Going ninety with cut brake lines

Still you’re laughing in the next seat over

With a cackle like a carrion crow

Good St. Christopher abandoned ship

With “Dead Man’s Polka” on the radio

Lazy Eye Sally and the Late St. Shawn

Were working us like marionettes

A little misdirection and your wallet’s gone

Your watch, your ring, your cigarettes

Maybe you wake up with a kidney missing

Maybe you don’t even wake up at all

Brace for impact and hold your breath

And hope you know the Australian crawl

Slide in the back of a black Cadillac

Heading for the Big Reveal

High-beams ablaze through the Mississippi haze

Blind Willie Johnson at the wheel

A wounded crow seeking perch on a burned out Baptist church

With Gabriel on the slide trombone

We got the blessing of the day and the right of way

And “Dead Man’s Polka” on the radio

Even the crickets sing the delta blues

The ghost of Lightnin’ Hopkins howls

You can see the fever rising off the orphans’ shoes

And the hooting that you hear ain’t owls

The only secrets round here worth keeping

Are the ones you write in rhyming verse

Seal your envelope with a lipstick kiss

And leave your house keys with the on-call nurse

Slide in the back of a black Cadillac

We’re heading for the Great Unknown

Our demons to purge with a Dixieland dirge

One-way ticket to the temperate zone

The voodoo priestesses sing of the luck mojos bring

When crossing to the valley below

With fuzzy dice keeping time to the funeral chime

And “Dead Man’s Polka” on the radio

We got the blessing of the day and the [Am] right of way  

And “Dead Man’s Polka” on the radio

TONIGHT WE DINE ON THE SOULS OF OUR ENEMIES

(L. O’Neal)

It was the thirtieth of April back in nineteen-twenty-three

When Henrietta Havilland and Gabriella Lee

Took a rowboat from the waterfront to sunny Coral Key

With a bag of finger sandwiches and a book of poetry

Well, they drifted past McCreevy’s farm and the chapel in Keene’s Cove

Waved to Mrs. Alexander as she labored at her stove

Paddled down past Holyoak town and its sweet potato grove

Singing canticles to spring and smoking cigarettes of clove

And they laughed and swore a blood oath to Mephistopheles

It’ll all be fine for tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies

Well, the full moon rose above the corn and the leafless chestnut tree

That’s when Henrietta Havilland and Gabriella Lee

Drew a pentagram with ox blood and stuck a voodoo doll’s right knee

Then they kicked their knickers off and put a curse on Ed Magee

And they chanted incantations and spells in Portuguese

 A pox upon your houses, your farms and families

Curse the whole bloodline for tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies

Mister Moore from the Department of Veteran’s Affairs

Woke up with a splitting headache and some itchiness down there

Mrs. Cooper and her sister forgot why they went upstairs

And the county’s tax collector had his head torn off by bears

As the whole town suffered from a host of odd indignities

Henrietta Havilland and Gabriella Lee took ease

Knowing no one would suspect a pair of spinsters such as these

Were aligned with Baphomet, Mammon and Mephistopheles

Raise a glass of wine for tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies

Raise a glass of wine for tonight we dine on the souls of our enemies

TOTE BAG FULL OF SNAKES

(L. O’Neal)

A single rose, a single rose, I gave my love a single rose

To symbolize a love that grows, a single rose that always shows

How my love grows, how my love flows through petals never wont to close

A single rose, a single rose, I gave my love a single rose

A love that gives and never takes, a heart that bends but never breaks

A single rose whose bloom awakes the butterflies from mountain lakes

I gave her chocolates, candies, cakes, I gave her cappuccino shakes

And in return that bitch gave me a tote bag full of snakes

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

I’d have settled for a gift card or some cash to fix my brakes

But the bitch gave me a tote bag, a tote bag full of snakes

Don’t mean to seem uncaring, unthankful or ungrateful

I probably came off a little horrorstruck and hateful

Now the writing’s on the wall in blood, it couldn’t be more fateful

When I told her snakes just freaked me out, she served me up a plateful

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

I’d have settled for a foot rub or a couple T-bone steaks

But the bitch gave me a tote bag, a tote bag full of

Vipers and black mambas, cottonmouths and copperheads,

Pythons and puff adders, all the kinds that leave you dead

Talking rattlesnakes and cobras that strike to hit a vein

And whatever Samuel L. Jackson had to deal with on that plane

A single rose, a single rose, I gave my love a single rose

To symbolize a love that grows, a single rose that always shows

How my love grows, how my love flows through petals never wont to close

A single rose, a single rose, I gave my love a single

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

A tote bag,

A tote bag,

A tote bag full of snakes

I’d have settled for a batch of week-old funfetti cupcakes

But the bitch gave me a tote bag, a tote bag full of snakes

Yeah, the bitch gave me a tote bag, a tote bag full of snakes

TRADE YOU FOR A DIRT BIKE

(L. O’Neal)

Your love is irreplaceable, your forgeries untraceable

My love is irrefutable, intentions indisputable

If history’s repeatable, love sickness is untreatable

Then our love is unbeatable, it’s true

Our vows are irreversible, as deep as some submersible

Our love is indestructible, and mostly tax-deductible

Attraction’s unmistakable, our contract is unbreakable

If anyone’s unshakable, it’s you

But I'd trade you for a dirt bike, just as sure as I'm alive

Yes, I'd trade you for a dirt bike or a brand-new PlayStation Five

Your body’s so delectable, my honor’s unrespectable

You may think me unsociable, my needs are non-negotiable

Your verbs are conjugatable, my ex was an inflatable

Her firmware was updatable for free

Our passion is combustible, thank God this thing’s adjustable,  

Some say I’m reprehensible, my actions indefensible

Our love is tough and durable, what I’ve got is incurable,

Guess no one’s uninsurable as me

But I'd trade you for a dirt bike, or an overhauled Chevy Chevette

Yes, I'd trade you for a dirt bike I can ride off into the sunset

I know our love was meant to be but Tyler got an XR-3

In cherry red with full-on sick appearance

I know I said our love was true but what's a guy supposed to do

When Honda has its end-of-season clearance?

Conditions inhospitable, this virus is transmittable

The symptoms are lamentable but totally preventable

This medicine’s undrinkable and losing you’s unthinkable

If anyone’s unsinkable, it’s you

But I'd trade you for a dirt bike, just as sure as I'm alive

Yes, I'd trade you for a dirt bike or a brand-new PlayStation Five

Yes, I'd trade you for a dirt bike, or an overhauled Chevy Chevette

Yeah, I'd trade you for a dirt bike I can ride off into the sunset

I would ride off into the sunset

I would ride off into the sunset