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