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. |
|
|||
2. |
Dear God
02:16
|
|||
|
Dear God
Please don’t let my face explode
Please don’t let my bones fall out
Please don’t turn my nipples into giant screaming heads
Don’t like Bjork and Dracula
Make out with my spatula
Please don’t let my butt be confiscated by the feds
These things I do implore thee
O God please don’t ignore me
I may be paranoid as hell but who made me that way?
The world is really scary
And that is why I’m very concerned about all that could happen today
(Dear God!)
Don’t stick me ‘tween two irate
Rhinos who are trying to mate
Don’t replace the raisins in my bagels with dead flies
Please don’t let my spleen expire
Please don’t set my mom on fire
Please don’t let my wife be Gilbert Gottfried in disguise
O God why won’t you listen
I’ve been a perfect Christian
Except for all the blasphemy and heresy and sin
Not looking for direction
Just asking for protection from this screwed-up world that you have stuck me in
(Dear God!)
Please don’t let my sperm mutate
Grow until they’re six foot eight
Start a revolution and devour me from within
Please don’t turn my Pepsi One
Into rancid bison dung
Please don’t let me be gang-raped by Teletubbies again
It’s not that I’m not grateful
In fact I’m very faithful
Whenever I had to fart in church I always held it in
I’ll follow you forever
Just promise that you’ll never let anything bad happen to me again
(Spoken part)
Dear God!
Please don’t let Optimus Prime be waiting for me in my bedroom with a bouquet of flowers and a strap-on. Please don’t let me be reincarnated as Starr Jones’ bicycle seat. Please don’t let me be force-fed crowbar sandwiches while a screaming horde of inbred nuns seductively rub my wife’s armpits with a croissant. Please don’t let Aquaman be living in my toilet. Please don’t let me be impregnated by a cross-eyed accountant in a day-glo green crotchless lobster costume. Please don’t let Jell-O shoot from every orifice in my body every time I see a rake. Please don’t let the IRS decide to pay me my tax refund in Miracle Whip. And please, God, don’t strike me with lightning for writing this song!
It’s not that I’m not grateful
In fact I’m very faithful
‘Sides Allah said he’d do it so don’t make me turn to him
I’ll follow you forever
Just promise that you’ll never let anything bad happen to me
Never let anything bad happen to me
Never let anything bad happen to me
Never let anything bad happen to me again
|
||||
3. |
Mommy's Broken
00:05
|
|
||
|
Mommy's Broken
|
||||
4. |
|
|||
|
Boning away on the ottoman
Boning the whole day long
The couch is too old and gray and the bed is too far away
So sing with me this happy boning song
Boning away on the ottoman
Ther'es nothing I'd rather do
Than help you out of your good dress, and dork you on the footrest
Just boning away and boning away
And no I won't stop 'til my scrotum decays
Just boning away on the ottoman with you
Uuueck
|
||||
5. |
||||
|
We had this drummer and his name was Frank
He didn’t play too well, in fact he really stank
Frank was a pretty boy, girls thought he was a hottie
But he thought he was a woman trapped inside of a man’s body
So Frank went to the doctor, said he needed a change
From a car to a garage in his home down on the range
But they messed up the paperwork to trim his lucky charm
And when he woke from the anesthesia he only had one arm
Frank filed a lawsuit he somehow managed to lose
And we had nothing for him but still more bad news
We told him early while his stub was still sore
“Frank, you’re not in the band anymore.”
Frank was upset, he wanted back in the band
And so he taught himself to drum with one hand
We went to his garage and got together to rehearse
He had really sucked before and now he wasn’t much worse
So we decided we’d give him another try
When suddenly a chainsaw fell down from the sky
His brother had been playing with it up in the loft
It hit Frank square in the shoulder, cut his other arm right off
We were in the middle of playing a Meatmen song
Suddenly we noticed that the rhythm sounded wrong
We turned around, saw the bloody arm lying on the floor
Then Frank wasn’t in the band anymore
So he tried playing the drums with his feet
It sounded stupid but it really looked neat
But he lost his legs in an accident involving frogs and Tang
That he’s never quite been able to explain
So he tried sticking the drumsticks in his nose
This made the handles all sticky and gross
He talked funny when he played now with a pained nasal lisp
And his drum solos sounded like this
(Drum solo with owing and a dropped drumstick which took me a half hour to record because I don't own a drumstick and had to find something that sounded like a drumstick when dropped, plus a good place to drop it)
Frank: “Dammit…hey, can somebody pick that up?”
Band: “NO!”
When he finally got whiplash from playing with his head
We said “Frank, you’ve got to stop this or else you’ll soon be dead
“We’ve enjoyed our time together, it’s really been fun
“But drummers need extremities and you don’t have a one”
Frank got real quiet; Frank got real sad
He didn’t speak to us for months; I guess we made him mad
But I’m proud to say this story still has a happy end
He got prosthetic everything and now he’s still our friend
We use him to prop open the door to the shed
And in the wintertime we’ve got the world’s only talking sled
But our new drummer’s name is Yamaha, we got him at the store
Cuz Frank’s not in the band anymore
No, Frank’s not in the band anymore
No, Frank’s not in the band
Anymore
|
||||
6. |
Ode To Phil
00:04
|
|
||
|
Graaagggh. Crocodile!
|
||||
7. |
|
|||
|
Mommy's Broken
|
||||
8. |
||||
|
(Okay, you hear the sound! The sound is PAC-MAN! Are you ready for PAC-MAN?)
(I am ready for Pac-Man!) (Yes, it is Pac-Man!) (Okay, Pac-Man!) (It is time to go!)
Being round a yellow guy? PAC-MAN!
Do he eating lots of dots? PAC-MAN!
Running up and down your street,
Screaming at your mailbox now,
Hanging from your ceiling fan? PAC-MAN!
(Yay! It is Pac-Man!) (Time for a Pac-Man!)
(We are very liking Pac-Man!) (Hooray now for the Pac-Man!)
(Much happy has this Pac-Man!) (Do I sing again about Pac-Man? Okay!)
Mouth a open and a close? PAC-MAN!
Run your fingers on my arm! PAC-MAN!
Jumping up and down real fast,
Putting butter in your hat,
Shaving all your fish at night? PAC-MAN!
(Ohh….)
It's time to Pac-Man!
The best way to Pac-Man is to use the game!
You moving joystick and you eat the dot,
Eat all the dot, you win another maze,
And mazes are the place where Pac-Man goes!
He eat a key or maybe eat a pear,
Cuz these are food for eating in the maze
But ghosts are making death so run away
Or make a blue ghost turn into a food!
(Oo, food! The Pac-Man likes food!)
(Lettuce is also food.)
(Do not talk about lettuce. It is time for Pac-Man.)
(More Pac-Man?)
(Yes, we will have another Pac-Man!)
(Okay, Pac-Man!)
(Where is Pac-Man?)
(Pac-Man is NOW!)
Eat a dot and eat a fruit? PAC-MAN!
Leaving something on the stove? PAC-MAN!
Spinning on a countertop,
Sniffing all your laundry now,
Blinky and Inky feeling rather sheepish? PAC-MAN!
(ohhhh…)
(Pac-Man!) (Pac-Man?) (Mmm ohh, Pac-Man!)
(There is no more song now!)
Ok.
|
||||
9. |
Deodorant
00:28
|
|
||
|
Deodorant.
AAAAGGGHAHHGHAHHHHGHAHGHAHGHHGHHGHHGHAAAAAAAGHAHAHAAGHAAAAA!!
DEODORANT!
|
||||
10. |
I Hate Syracuse
00:15
|
|
||
|
It's fucking cold!
I Hate Syracuse I Hate Syracuse I Hate Syracuse OI OI OI OI
I Hate Syracuse I Hate Syracuse I Hate Syracuse OI OI OI OI OI!
OI!
|
||||
11. |
Get A Real Dog
02:13
|
|||
|
I come to your house and I knock on your door
That’s when I hear a sound that I’ve never heard before
It’s whimpering and growling like it thinks that it’s a threat
But it’s just a fucking wiener dog, your stupid little pet
I’m trying to get in, it tries to keep me out
Demonic Yoko Ono noises coming from its mouth
I’d like to chain it to the wall and give its nuts a flog
Why don’t you get a clue
And get a real dog
I fight my way inside, now it’s yipping even more
Its excrement is everywhere its tiling the floor
It bites my ankle humps my leg and pisses on my shoe
You smile and say “How cue, I think he likes you!”
I can’t take it no more, I kick it and I scream
There’s anger in my eyes and canine semen on my jeans
I’d like to violate its anus with a yule log
Throw out that cocktail wiener
And get a real dog
|
||||
12. |
|
|||
|
Mommy's Broken
|
||||
13. |
Long Story Short
00:15
|
|
||
|
We met we talked and then we kissed and then we went out for a while and then we fucked and then we fought she cheated on me we broke up I stalked her for a while and then her new boyfriend kicked my ass so I went out with someone else. The end.
|
||||
14. |
Minuet In G
00:24
|
|
||
|
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht Buehhht
Buh-buh-buh-kaaaaah
|
||||
15. |
Thermometer Of Doom
00:22
|
|
||
|
Thermometer, Thermometer, Thermometer
Thermometer Of Doom
|
||||
16. |
Too Fat For The Pit
02:45
|
|||
|
I’m here to dance and have some fun
But when you see me you just run
The sight of me just seems to make you squirm
Might as well just put a sign outside
“Must be this thin to ride this ride”
It’s not my fault you’re smaller than my sperm
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the motherfucking
(pit) You’ve got an open mind
And in your heart you’ll never find
A fear of any color creed or race
And that’s why I don’t understand
Why do you fear the portly man
It’s not like I’m gonna eat your face
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the pit
Too fat for the motherfucking pit
(Best breakdown I've ever written)
I’m 26 now, I’ve got a wife
And I’ve never stagedived once in my life
I tried it once, in ’94
The kids stepped back, I hit the floor
And the one thing I most despite
Most bands don’t make shirts in my size
They’ve got XL, and sure it fits
But shows my ass crack and hugs tight against my tits
Tight against my tits
Tight against my tits
Too fat for the pit
I’m here to dance and have some fun
But when you see me you just run
The sight of me just seems to make you squirm
You fear me cuz I need a bra
It’s blatant sumophobia
It’s not my fault you’re smaller than my motherfucking sperm
|
||||
17. |
|
|||
|
Mama Est Cassé
|
||||
18. |
Done
00:09
|
|
||
|
Um...wood.
|
||||
19. |
Ice Cream Has No Bones
01:47
|
|||
|
Mama Est Cassé
|
||||
20. |
||||
|
This guy Vlastimil is from outer space
He showed me a hairywaffle and he peeled off his face
So I confronted him yeah, yeah, before he could hide
He looked nervous when he asked “Shoebox, want to go on a space ride?”
The space ship was pregnant, it had 42 wheels
There was a poster of Dick Van DykeMarinating Shaquille O’Neal
There was a QY –i, the one that I want
And in the back there was a Dinosaur BBQ restaurant
Have you been to the place where I’ve already gone?
Not even a hipster looks good with brand new sneakers on
The spaceship, it goes round and round
The alien weirdos go up and down
We’re captured on a carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
“SPOON!” He said, he was visibly upset
He put down his napalm omelette and ejected the diskette
He said “The news is not good,” and he turned green
There was a giant chinchilla heading toward us on the video screen
Don’t worry yourselves, doodz, it turned out all right
I’m glad I didn’t bring my styrofoam nipples that night
Have you been to the place where I’ve already gone?
Not even a hipster looks good with brand new sneakers on
The spaceship, it goes round and round
The alien weirdos go up and down
We’re captured on a carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
|
||||
21. |
|
|||
|
nekorB s'ymmoM
|
||||
22. |
|
|||
|
I Wanna Poop In Diane Sawyer’s Mailbox
And not just cuz I want to hear it splatter
Let’s see if she keeps that fake concerned expression
When she finds her mail adrift in fecal matter
I wanna poop in Diane Sawyer’s mailbox
It’s just something I feel I’ve got to do
And I’d leave a note that says “I’ve watched that 20/20 crap
“And I’ve listened to the endless shit you spew
“So I figured that I’d give some back to you!”
I Wanna Poop In Diane Sawyer’s Mailbox (In her mailbox)
I Wanna Poop In Diane Sawyer’s Mailbox (In her mailbox)
I Wanna Poop In Diane Sawyer’s Mailbox (In her mailbox)
I Wanna Poop In Diane Sawyer’s Mailbox
No I don’t.
|
||||
23. |
Deadanimals
00:27
|
|
||
|
Dead Animals. Dead Animals. Dead Animals. Dead Animals (etc.)
MOSES!
|
||||
24. |
||||
|
In the vestibule
Near the stained-glass window of Jesus trying to eat a Ford Pinto
There’s a carrot, and a penis, and an eyebrow mangler
Choose wisely, bite the spoon-hive
Lick the mattress, laminate your relatives
Try to find a way to fit the word “speculum” into your obituary
I am the salmon master
I am the crouton blaster
I’m only normal in that my ass has a hole
Chalk it up to Mommy’s shetlin pony casserole
You am a scrotum scraper
You am a walrus raper
Keep your mucus in a furnace
Blow your nose and try to burn us
And you can’t escape my thermos
(But you gotta) Call me Jennifer and you can steal my stapler
Paint the leaves but it won’t make your elm tree any mapler
Arm your credenza but you still can’t fight the urge
To pee in your Mountain Dew and call it homemade surge
Do you really think that it will bring you great success
To leave me emasculated and staplerless
Though you dare to call me Jennifer
And you dare to steal your stapler
Someday you’ll find an octagonal llama in your beard (in your beard)
Where’s your vegetables?
Are they buried in phlegm at the bottom of a yak aquarium?
Are they tasty? Are they boneless? Are they masturbating? (blaaah!)
Moon Gandhi, Paint your kittens
Figure out which condiment you can most easily impersonate
Is it mustard? Yes it’s mustard! It is so, you lying bastard!
I am the warthog waxer
I am the corn relaxer
Blowing my nose on a Whitesnake bandana
Reading all your anti-string propaganda
You am a lemur poopy
You am an Urkel groupie
When you walk along and stumble
Kick the chickens as they mumble
Put a bookmark in your bunghole
(then ya gotta) Call me Jennifer, and try to steal my stapler
Go to Naples, and try like hell to make it Napler
Swivel like a narcoleptic ice cream scoop
Write an essay comparing the civil war to pine cone soup
You can tour the brand-new lobster factory
Come in the front, and leave through the backtory
If you’re born and raised in Syracuse
By a pack of Nazi caribous
Then I’m sure, that you can relate to all I say (all I say)
You might say
Why not start a cult that worships Popeye?
How about cuz Popeye sucks?
Build yourself a condo in the wilderness
That’s made out of live ducks!
Why can’t strudel bitch and pout?
Why won’t bicycles put out?
What’s this stupid song about?
( And why the hell do you ) call me Jennifer, and try to steal my stapler
If you do weird things with grapes, than can you be called a grapler?
Does your mother still collect electric cheese?
Do you use prosthetic chipmunk limbs to sodomize Rick Dees?
When you’re barnlike, do rabid toasters lick your hair?
Do Egyptians all wear Wonder Woman underwear?
Do you have a tampon in your skull?
Can I use you as a urinal?
Do you fill your shoes with sticks and lard?
Do the Care Bears make your nipples hard?
Do you pray to yeast and Michael Dorn?
Do you wish there was Sock Monkey porn?
Do you weep whenever you see a homeless pear?
(Homeless pear, homeless pear, homeless pear…
I don’t CARE!
|
||||
25. |
|
|||
|
I don't even know
|
||||
26. |
|
|||
|
Mommy's Broken
|
||||
27. |
Road Bliss
05:00
|
|||
|
Late for work again I don’t care
Found a place where despair
Never seems to find me
Garfield hanging from my window
Smiles at all the people
Who are stuck beside me
Crank down the window and crank up the Ramones
To bother the yuppies who yap on their cel-phones
I’m stuck here in traffic, it’s my favorite place in the world
Gridlocked, we’ve been here for ages
Everyone’s road rage is
At the point of bursting
Crawling, 60 hours a mile
Shake my head and smile
Sirens blare and birds sing
I seatbelt my neck ‘til it can’t get no tighter
And write “bite my ass” on the dash with my lighter
A beautiful morning in my favorite place in the world
Commuters blow their horns, and scream ‘til their faces turn red
I know that half of them, are probably packing, and the other half soon will be dead
And I know I used to be like them, so full of gas-stomping watch-checking fury
But then I realized I don’t even wanna go where I’m going so
WHAT THE HELL IS MY HURRY?
The condition’s not improving
Vast lines of unmoving
Cavaliers and vipers
Try to synchronize my music
With the rhythmic smooth tick
Of my windshield wipers
People make faces all mean like Ghadaffi
I smile and drink my cold Burger King coffee
Lean back in my seat for a mid-morning nap
I’ll probably be fired, I don’t give a crap
I’m stuck here in traffic it’s my favorite place in the world, in the world, in the world.
(Background 1)
All around the horns a’blowin’, the adrenaline is flowin’
And the air is black outside now, from the carbon monoxide now
Getting there is half the fun, yeah, when your neighbor’s got a gun yeah
If someone should blow my cheek off, I could probably take a week off
Don’t cut off that drunkass redneck, with the fully loaded gun rack
Cuz you’ll find yourself quite forlorn, when your small pet dog is airborne
Barbara Walters tells the story, makes it sound all bloody gory
But didn’t that same stupid cow, also call straight edge a cult now?
Will the simple stress of travel, make society unravel?
On the freeway blood will flow now, It’s apocalypse to go now
(Background 2)
Work just brings me such despair
Yuppie fakers everywhere
Cubicle walls haunt my dreams
Dilbert cartoons make me scream
When I’m stuck here in my car
All the torment seems so far
Though it’s just six blocks away
Doubt I’ll make it there today
|
||||
28. |
||||
29. |
|
|||
30. |
|
|||
31. |
|
|||
32. |
|
|||
33. |
||||
34. |
|
|||
35. |
|
|||
Worm Quartet Rochester, New York
New album "Carpe Tedium" available now!
