Get all 10 Worm Quartet releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Carpe Tedium, Take The Fire Back (Prometheus Has Left The Building), The Pac-Man EP, Entire Dog, Fueled By Angst, Songs of the Maniacs, Mental Notes, Faster Than A Speeding Mullet, and 2 more.
1. |
I'm Gonna Procreate
04:26
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People say to me “Shoebox
You’ve got a wife now
Do you have any plans
To start a family life now?
We really don’t want your help
Perpetuating the species”
So I bend over and turn around
And tell them to suck my feces
I’ve gotten the impression, since I was in preschool
That some people are opposed to my wading in the gene pool
They’ve mostly been subtle hints, but it sure raised my suspicions
When 300 protestors showed up on my lawn and showed me their signed petitions
Total strangers wish upon me an infection of the pelvic plexus
And children scream and point and cry and ask their parents what my sex is
But I remain undeterred despite the death threats that I’m getting
Your kids will have to deal with my crap too, cuz my seed will soon be spreading!
I’m gonna procreate and there’s nothing you can do about it
It’s gonna be so great, my wife’ll pop out kids like a diesel-powered pez dispenser
If you’re against her helping me produce my offspring let me know
I’ll tell you where to go
Cuz I’m gonna procreate
My wife’s won awards for her uteral perfection
She’s got more freakin’ eggs than the Wegmans’ dairy section
If she even wants to hold my hand, I wear a condom before I’ll let her
Cuz she’s more fertile than cow manure, and thank god, she sure smells better
I’ve been checking my sperm count, and it couldn’t be higher
They’re practically shooting out of my pores whenever I perspire
I’ll fertilize anything that moves, my semen is so kickin’
If I shove an Egg McMuffin down my pants, it turns into a McChicken
I’m gonna procreate and there’s nothing you can say about it
Thanks to a twist of fate I’ve found a girl who doesn’t throw up when she sees me naked
Why would she make it with a fatass long-haired ultra-geek like me?
Well it’s a mystery
I can’t wait until the day
The OB/GYN will say
“Let’s see the ultrasound of what you’ve bred”
The nurses will all faint and scream
Because I’ll bet they’ve never seen
A fetus with a mullet on its head
And full-sized man-boobs
I’ve been reading ‘bout And wondering how it could apply to the fruits of my erection
I want all my swimmers to be just the fastest fancy sleek ones
So I wax my carrot twenty times a day just to weed out the weak ones
I’m gonna procreate and there’s nothing you can do about it
Each time I copulate there’s a chance that something’s gonna be fertilized now
Don’t be surprised now if someday it comes to be that there’s a
Warm and mushy fleshy thing that’s looking up at you
With a head all full of questions and a diaper full of poo
With a bottle full of Folger’s and a Bad Religion tee
And a face that’s trial-sized but looks an awful lot like me
I'm gonna procreate
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2. |
Great Idea For a Song
03:26
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Remember when we used to hold each other close
And gaze so deeply in each others’ eyes
Remember how I said I’d never let you go
And how you swore you’d never tell me lies
(You do? Well…)
All I remember is the way you nonchalantly
squashed my heart just like a cockroach on the floor
All I remember is the happiness I felt
the day I finally kicked your skank ass out the door
Remember when you were the best part of my life
The reason I got up to face the day
Remember how you swore you’d always stay by me
And love me for forever come what may
(You do? Well…)
All I remember is the nights you’d go out drinking
and I’d pray the cops would find you somewhere dead
All I remember is the way that all my dishes
became airborne and flew right into my head
Now please don’t think I’m ranting cuz I’m bitter
I’ve found somebody new and I’ve moved on
But if only your name rhymed with twisted psychotic slut
I’d have a great idea for a song
Remember how we used to drive down to the beach
And walk along the seashore hand in hand
Remember how we used to sit and watch the waves
And spell out our initials in the sand
(You do? Well…)
All I remember is the whining and the moaning
and the griping about every little thing
All I remember is how soundly I could sleep
when I dreamt of your lifeless body festering
Now please don’t think that this is all just hindsight
I’ve felt this way about you for so long
And if only your name rhymed with sadistic lying bitch
I’d have a great idea for a song
Oh your name…might as well
Rhyme with psycho whore from south of hell
Cuz of all the crap you put me through back then
Oh if only your mom and dad
Had named you something that rhymed with “walking talking maxipad”
Think of all the clever tunes I could have penned
Cuz Becky rhymes with yecky
And Missy rhymes with pissy
And Susie rhymes with floozie
And Patty rhymes with fatty
And Eleanor rhymes with smelly whore
And Marigold rhymes with hairy-holed
And Lauren rhymes with scorin’
Celia Linda Park rhymes with “Feel ya in the dark”
Daisy Rhoda York rhymes with “Easy ho ta pork”
Rhonda Lynn Mae Stutback rhymes with “Fondlin’ my buttcrack”
I’d pay you to change your name to Shelly Hunt
HEY!
Remember when your latest hunk of throbbing meat
Had left you for a tighter piece of ass
Remember when you called me sobbing on the phone
And begged me to forgive you for your past
(You do? Well…)
All I remember is that lab rats don’t push levers
After taking an electric shock or two
I’d rather duct tape a live wire to my groin
than take a death march down memory lane with you
Now please don’t think I want to be your friend now
I’d rather see John Goodman in a thong
But if only your name rhymed with back-stabbing heartless tramp
I’d have a great idea for a song
Yes if only your name rhymed with manipulative conniving whore
I’d have a great idea for a song
Yeah if only your name rhymed with worthless cheating worm-ridden butt-ugly bile-sucking skanky smelly slutty waste of flesh, fat, and bone that makes me want to donate my entire life savings to NASA in the hopes that someday they’ll make a time machine and I can retroactively give your parents a box of condoms
I’d have great idea for a song
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3. |
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Astonishers are Flashing
in The Cuse
They drink and rock and gaze down
At their shoes
Four melancholy marvels
Who kick ass
While lamenting 'bout broken
Stained glass
Now Bob plays Bee Gees covers on weekends
But he still hits stuff like a stuff-hitting God
And Dan Musclow's voice may be kinda whiny
But you can bet your girlfriend's given him and Chuck a hand job
Involuntary Bliss is
What they're on
Their machine doesn't have a
A star on
From OPL to WEFest
They have rocked
But now it looks like everything's
Gonna Stop
Cuz their glasses-wearing weirdo guitarist
Who's known by anyone who's ever read a zine
Has decreased the band's Weezer-lookalikeness
By saying sayonara to the whole fucking scene
If Gregg Yeti doesn't rejoin, I'll kill myself
Make Jello shots with Drano, and kill myself
Slit my wrists with a Triscuit, and kill myself
I'll bathe in battery acid, and kill myself
Shove a high-powered vaccuum hose down my throat, and kill myself
Stick my head in the microwave, and kill myself
Go scuba-diving and bite a shark's cock, and kill myself
Who's gonna find me shows now? I'll kill myself
Dammit...
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4. |
Archie Got An STD
02:12
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Archie got an STD
From some whore from NYC
Hurts to fuck and hurts to pee
Archie got an STD
Archie got an STD
Watch him walk, it’s plain to see
Look out Veronica and Betty
Archie got an STD
Sorry Pop
Better close down the Chock’lit shop
Once this plague starts spreading
It’s never gonna stop
(Cuz) everyone in Riverdale
Has once been Archie’s tail
And there’s nothing alive
His tainted weenie won’t impale
Have you seen
The whole town’s been quarantined
To stop the spread of semen from Now Archie’s glum
Cuz life’s no longer fun
He used to be a playa now his
Balls are green and full of zits
He’s grown a full-blown set of tits
There’s algae floating in his pee
He has to be fed rectally
His penis has a big red mark
That buzzes and glows in the dark
And all his pubic hair is
e-vap-o-rating
Archie got an STD
Something’s wrong with his weenie
Look out Midge and Miss Grundy
Archie got an STD
Archie got an STD
Look out Jughead and Reggie
Look out Mr. Weatherbee
Archie got an STD
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5. |
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You were small and white
Now you're small and white and dead
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6. |
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Let’s make fun of the Amish
Those stupid ignorant fucks
Let’s make fun of the Amish
Like the guy on the oatmeal box
They don’t believe in electricity
Like we’re supposed to care
I’ll give ‘em a taste of electricity
Put ‘em in the fucking chair
Get ‘em out of this fucking country
Put ‘em all on boats
All they do is make cheese
And milk their fucking goats
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7. |
Eat Here and Die
03:04
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Dave Thomas MIA
From CEO to DOA
The pallbearers at his funeral say
Their tears were not from grief
Cuz years of burgers shakes and fries
Had made his buttocks biggie-sized
And now the tombstone where he lies
Is carved with "Here's The Beef"
"What will we do?" Shouts the whole Wendy's crue
"He's in our commercials, he sells all our food
"He was old and damned ugly, but we know it's true
"On his face we have grown to rely"
Advertising executives losing their grip
But try to go on without Dave's leadership
They create a new slogan that's modern and hip:
"Wendy's: Eat Here And DIE!"
Colonel Sanders bit the dust
Yet still his face looks down at us
Up on a pole his cartooned bust
Shines over KFC
How'd he expect his heart to beat
When all he ever had to eat
Was breaded wads of greasy meat
with biscuits and Pepsi
"Kentucky Fried Chicken" had brought him such fame
But once he stopped breathing they shortened the name
As if even though they prepare it the same
It's now healthy cuz they don't say "fry"
But they say there's a restaurant in Akron Ohier
Where the ghost of the Colonel rose up from a fryer
And screamed "Eat my chicken you too shall expire!
"KFC: Eat Here And DIE!"
Every fast food franchise
Has a trademarked guise
Through which they filter lies
From their corporate high-rise
Every super-size
May lead to your demise
But at least you get a toy surprise!
But when your icon dies
How do you advertise
The virtues of your fries
And eggroll-shaped pies
That fatten up the thighs
And clog the arter-eyes
‘Til your only function is to fertilize
(fertilize...fertilize...)
Mickey D’s makes burgers fun
To try to hook ‘em while they’re young
Like dealers and the church have done
Throughout our history
A clown-led thought control campaign
That’s calculated to ingrain
The need for nuggets in the brain
But they’re not fooling me
How many Ronalds have come and then gone?
Live as long as a goldfish and then they pass on
They suit up another, the legend lives on
And the kids all think it’s the same guy
Did all these actors think that it was sound
To take a job as a disposable clown?
30 minutes of fame was their final countdown
McDonald’s – eat here and die
Wendy’s – eat here and die
Everywhere you eat will make you die
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8. |
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9. |
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I don't have to tell you how much it sucks to get shot in the face
So I guess I'll save some time by not even writing this song at all
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10. |
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Raisins in disguise, raisins in disguise
Hooray for the iguana! (Merp Merp Merp)
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11. |
Calculator In My Bum
00:18
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I've got a calculator in my bum
It blocks the hole that the poopy comes out from
When I have to add or divide
I have to reach way deep inside
And then I get a really stinky thumb
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12. |
Broom Broom Broom
00:05
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13. |
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Frolicking in pain
Chewing on my salad tongs
Goldfish in my brain
Osmond family wearing thongs
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14. |
Lice and Rice
00:04
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Rice in my laundry
Lice in my milk
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15. |
The Face of a Child
00:15
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Oh the face of a child is a loud loud thing
It's a loud loud loud loud loud loud thing
It's loud like a stereo
Only if you kick it it doesn't stop, it just gets louder
It's a loud loud loud loud thing
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16. |
Thank You
00:08
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17. |
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Smell my nipple, win a prize
Win a prize
Win a prize
Smell my nipple, win a prize
Win a prize for you
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18. |
Dead Tacos
00:10
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Dead tacos
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19. |
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Why do the elderly growl at cucumbers?
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20. |
Salmon In Disguise
00:04
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Salmon in disguise
Salmon in disguise
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21. |
Yak Aquarium
00:08
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Yak aquarium
Yak aquarium
I got me a yak aquarium
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22. |
Toasterama
00:06
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Toasterama!
Eh.
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23. |
Wookiee Weeniee
00:17
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When Chewbacca gets a woodiee soes his thing pop through his hair?
Or is he sufficiently upholstered that it still stays tucked in there?
I don't wanna see a wookiee weeniee, no there's no doubt of that
But if it's visible at least you know when he's about to mount your cat
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24. |
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Sorry buddy, I gotta say
We're no longer buying lizard shit
We stopped that practice yesterday
We're no longer buying lizard shit
JERK: I've got some I'd like to sell you!
ME: Sorry, I don't know what to tell you
JERK: I've got it on a silver platter!
ME: It's still reptilian fecal matter
JERK: My iguana's totally bran-fed
ME: Sorry, dude, the market's dead
And no one wants to buy your stupid
JERK: No one wants to buy my stupid
ME AND JERK: No one wants to buy your stupid lizard shit
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25. |
My Wife
02:34
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My wife
Is made up of some parts
She’s got a lot of hair
She’s got a couple nostrils
I think she’s got a spleen
She argues with the fridge
And assaults my Barbeque sauce
She hisses at highway traffic
I think she’s really keen
My wife
Calls knocked-down road signs pheasants
She makes words into chicks
She doesn’t smell like aluminum
She’s never stabbed my groin
She owns electronic pork
She’s threatened me with happy horns
She let me name our cats
After obscure keyboard characters
When we’re having a lousy time
She can summon carnivals into existence with the power of her mind
And if our waitress is depressed
She can hold a fork in her tongue ring while I pick up my straw with my nosepit
My wife
Likes running over hookers
But only in Grand Theft Auto
Her pet name for me is “numbnuts”
Somehow she makes it cute
She made me a giant tampon
She talks to infomercials
She lets me touch her boobs
I think she’s really keen
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26. |
J.R.O. (Intro)
01:48
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27. |
J.R.O.
01:44
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Oh there’s this guy
Who runs this show
He made fun of me cuz I didn’t wanna drive in the snow
But I think
That you should know this
He’s been around long enough that he remembers when women actually had sex with members of KISS
Cuz
Joe’s really old
Joe’s really old
Joe’s really really really really really old
Joe’s really old
Just the other day
I saw him in his car
Rockin’ out to Chris Isaak and cornholing a certain unmentionable Golden Girls star
But there’ll come a day
And it’s gonna be soon
Where nurses have to help him wipe his ass and feed him mushed up Cool Ranch Doritos with a spoon
Cuz
Kick out the jams!
Yeah Yeah! Bring it to me, my homies!
One more time for Kip Winger’s Uterus!
Yeah Yeah! Rise up, children of the revolution! TESTIFY!! TESTIFY, DAMMIT!! Ya stupid poodle-smackin’ sphincter zombies!!
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28. |
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I wanna wipe a booger on Dan Rather
It's not because I think he is a doofus
It's just that I can't stand to watch him blather
And his face could use a shiny coat of mucus
I wanna wipe a booger on Dan Rather
While he's reporting on the Evening News
And when he asks me what the hell I'm doing
I'll tell him that I've lost a couple screws
And then I'll hork a lugie on his shoes
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29. |
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Support ergonomic noodles for apathy! Structured clam dip produces a hexagonal surprise. Why must you use your horrible sock to nonchalantly levitate butter for the purpose of smuggling Frenchmen across the countertop? Are you mopping Jesus again? You can't bludgeon a sandwich with the same sandwich you're trying to bludgeon no matter how much you resemble the naked happy supersnail of pain and his magic puppet, Irwin The Insolent. Everything smells like either David Hasselhoff or members of his immediate entourage. I'll be gosh-darned if I'magonna swallow hot lubricated sandals to support that otter-gnosher and his famous incontinent show pony, no matter how much you gibber and somersault over your nun. We each know a loaf, and we each know another loaf; and yet here comes Willard. Unpleasantness and liverwurst go hand in hand like burglars and scones twisted listlessly yet diabolically into the shapes of your favorite WWF superstars. Twist the nipples of the antichrist and receive five prunes and a chisel! This trapezoid is full of rage, and also scrod! Ethel the transparent waitress has clearly eaten her last nostril and is squirming and exploding all over your stupid boat. Licking swastikas doesn't make you a muppet! We've all got ideas and snausages and sauerkraut and scoliosis and a crayon that's been up Betty White's nose, but we can't just sway in the potentially-eggless sandbox while parkas copulate noisily and bloated frogmen lazily pick lint from the buttcrack of the sunset. We have but nine mustards and a mildly-neutered buffalo with a throbbing infection that is neither erotic nor Paraguay. In a world devoid of catheters, I tap-dance apathetically on the boobs of your ancestors as corn tinkles conically and Eddie finds a suspiciously hairless magnet. How dare you trade felt for obedience while your in-laws remain flammable? Though you measure your abstinence in toothbrush after toothbrush of warm barnacles and fat thermometers, mock not the absorbency of geese! There's no "i" in "cucumber," there's no "q" in "incest," and there's no elevator in Ted Danson. Unfurl your inner kumquat! Give rice pads and yogurt to the East! Drizzle melted children from clam to clam, kicking ketchup and violating every available nugget with the balloon of your choice! Suffocate your indigestible tomahawk. I am never a carrot and nobody molests my anti-brooding helmet. Stop trying to shave God!
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30. |
Strap-On Brain
05:08
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You're ranting 'bout albums by the Masturbating Croutons
And Vinnie Viagra and the Limp Prick Krue
You tell me the Snailfuckers were your greatest influence
But Timmy Tampon and the Stringalongs sure meant a lot to you
You're dropping names with Dennis Miller smugness
And with Rob Scheffield pretentiousness you analyze
And though you're cool on the outside, you're giggling internally
Cuz though I'm nodding you can see confusion in my eyes
Congratulations fuckface
You're the indie rock obscurity king
So here's your fucking trophy
Go stick it in the hole that makes your colon sing
Put on my strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel dirty
Makes me feel dirty
(Put on my) strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel so fucking dirty now
You've worked in the same cubicle for almost 20 years
You've got two kids a mortgage and an SUV
Climbed the corporate ladder 'til you got some underlings
And bless my lucky fucking stars, one of 'em's me
You say they should mandate uniforms in public school
Cuz how can your kid learn when his friend's dressed like a slob?
Opinions are like assholes and yours could use some
But I've gotta nod and smile just to keep my job
Have you always been so boring?
Did you have a soul and where did it go?
Was it your childhood ambition
To bitch about your golf game and your stock portfolio?
Put on my strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel dirty
Makes me feel dirty
(Put on my) strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel so fucking dirty now
Even the world's biggest moron
Has always got his own point of view
And he's just smart enough to know you can't disagree
If he's got any power over you
So when somebody's spouting walrus shit
But you're not allowed to tell 'em
Society dictates that thou shall bite thy tongue
And strap a cranial dildo to your cerebellum
A cranial dildo to your cerebellum
You're an ex-jock with a buzzcut, raised in West Virginia
With the 12-pack in your belly slowly flowing through your veins
You take me aside to tell me 'bout your high school days
When cheerleaders would spread for you after every game
Your breath gets worse as your drunken head bobs closer
And you rant about the homos and the homies and the spics
And I contemplate all my possible responses
And I weigh how much each one of them will get my ass kicked
You wasted redneck fuckwit
Raised by the WWF
Let me buy you a cold one
So you can kill the three brain cells you've got left
Put on my strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel dirty
Makes me feel dirty
(Put on my) strap-on brain to think at your level
But it makes me feel so fucking dirty now
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31. |
Coffee (2003 Grind)
05:01
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CAFFEINATION ACTIVATION!
Sitting in my cubicle
Trying to pass the time
Click the little envelope
But no new mail's online
My schedule program shows me
All this crap I have to do
A post-it note upon my desk
says "Nobody called you"
I write myself a reminder note
To throw that note away
I check my voice mail even though
I've been sitting here all day
It says "You have no messages
No life no hope no friends"
And You've still got seven hours
'Til this freakin’ workday ends
But I can smell salvation
It's brewing down the hall
The percolator sings to me
And I must heed its call
As liquid touches styrofoam
I feel the steam's sweet kiss
And I know I'm just seconds away
From caffeinated bliss
Coffee coffee coffee
To stimulate my brain
Coffee coffee coffee
To make me less insane
I used to be a zombie
And I'd fall asleep at work
Now everybody knows me as
The hyperactive jerk
Now that I'm Chock full'o'nuts
My job is just a game!
I open up my phone book and
I highlight every name!
I bend my paper clips into
The shapes of little men
I search the net for Amish porn
I take apart my pen
I open up the three-hole punch
And spill holes on the floor
I fire staples ‘cross the room
'Til I don't have no more
I laminate my lunch meat
I link my rubber bands
(Make a) Xerox of my hairy ass
And fax it to
And when the buzz starts wearing off
And when I'm feeling low
I pour myself another mug
My cup shall overflow
Eleven packs of sugar
And a couple spoons of creamer
And I shall receive the gift of life
From my liquid redeemer
Coffee coffee coffee
Come on and drink it up
Coffee coffee coffee
Nirvana in a cup
I used to be a peon, just a
worthless wad of gristle
'til I replaced by brain cells
with instant Folger's crystals
My boss calls me in his office
He says "Now listen, you...
"I have a little problem
"with the crappy work you do
"I never see you at your desk
"So what's been going on?
"Half the time you're at the coffee pot,
"The rest you're in the John!
"Your eyes are always bloodshed
"Your hands they always shake
"Your skin's the tone of dead flesh
"At the bottom of a lake
"We think this has to do with all
“The coffee that you chug
"So we’re switching you to decaf
"And we’re cleaning out your mug"
These words to me were blasphemy
I found them just appalling
So I kicked that bastard somewhere
That I knew would leave him crawling
Now I’m jobless homeless on the street
You could say I’ve got hard luck
But I’ve got a gun and now I’m gonna
Go hold up a Starbucks
Coffee coffee coffee
With sugar and with cream
Coffee coffee coffee
The reason for my being
I used to be so tired
I'd pass out on the floor
Now I haven't needed a wink of sleep
Since 1994
Coffee coffee coffee
It's great to have around
Coffee coffee coffee
I even eat the grounds
I used to be a drone,
Now I'll never be the same!
I drink a hundred cups a day
Juan Valdez knows my name
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Worm Quartet Rochester, New York
New album "Carpe Tedium" available now!
