The Criminals

You Stupid Fuk (jesse)
you stupid fuk
didja hear the news
believe every rumor
I heard it’s true
don’t talk to me if you’ve got nothing to say
I’m so sick of rumors
you stupid fuk
you slimy liar
way too juicy
not to be true – (right!)

No Victim Here (jesse)
anorexic limbs scramble for the vein deep depression eyes
self-deluding shuffling one way flight to her jane doe grave
he’s the smart and final pusher suave to the end
freebies first to desperate fiends that used to be friends
blood bubbles trickle
last breath wheeze
naked sphincter opens
now nothing’s left…
another funeral dropping like flies tearful good-byes
together mourners lean on each other
no control too late to hear her cry for help friends abandoned now drink you away
she’s been aimlessly wandering stumbling through the grime
scratching her heroin itch addiction’s her victimless crime
trapped by the deal that’s no bargain at all
smaller and smaller circles it’s slower and slower until at last it comes to a
final fatal crawl.

Muerte (jesse)
another city of the dead – telephone boxes of death
slab after slab covering bones – lying in marble beds
cemetaries are for the living to primp and beautify the end
rotting flesh stinks under flowers – clean marble lets us pretend
the weathered headstones cut through the grass
like the crusty schooners of old
eternity bound with their decaying cargo
of raggedy bones and mold
some graves are cared for by little old men
others fall into themselves,
returning to the earth again

Girl With A Hole In Her Heart (brady)
(around here there’s a place where all the kids go)
angels with dirty faces sneak around secret places,
past thorn bushes and barbed-wire fences, past the cops with their dulled senses.
ruling the rooftops and alleyways
wishing we could wreck the world this way.
with no one left for us to follow we blast straight through to tomorrow.
sticky fingers and clever schemes, smeared make-up and black-eyed dreams.
’cause we’ve got no long term plans… but we gotta stick it to the man…
(this side of the tracks belongs to us)
there is a girl with a hole in her heart who wants so much she’ll make stealing an art.
I’m entranced and afraid simultaneously – but I fell when the smell of your cheap perfume hit me
we didn’t listen to what we were told – she won’t slow down so she won’t grow old no
(and I fell when the smell of your cheap perfume hit me)

My School Sucks (jesse)
yeah I hate my teachers they make me read bad books
the principal oppresses me and kids give me dirty looks
the worst pains are my classes filled with boring facts
dumb ideas in textbooks written by nerdy four-eyed hacks
my counselor tells me I have such great potential
who listens to him though he’s got no credentials
trying to turn me into society’s creature
at least in RISKY BUSINESS they got pizza!
my school sucks
and I know it
trying to mold me
they’ll never hold me

Criminal Rock And Roll (jesse)
criminals strike while the going’s hot/ we’re every where the cops are not
never been caught no plans to be – no plans to be
running for miles all criminally
got my big white satellite car on the road
pumping out the maximum rock and roll
chewing up the miles with the stereo blasting
swerving around slowpokes never crashing
we’re the criminals feeling real fine/ rocking out way over the line
never been told we’re going too slow /sexing up all of El Segundo

Dial ‘H’ For Homewrecker (brady)
I’m hexed
oversexed
we’re a mess
I stab out my eyes like Oedipus Rex
I can’t keep down a meal
hate the way you make me feel
pretty please I’m on my knees
a lump of coal where your heart should be
I’m hexed
you’re next
more is less
I stab out my eyes like Oedipus Rex
I should be broken but I’m just bored
nobody’s young and pure anymore
we’re only in this ankle-deep
stop touching me I want to sleep
I think I’m headed for an early gave so I’m headed back to El Segundo
beyond the turmoil of our times with shifty eyes and racing minds
not words coolly uttered by a mind at calm breathing-girl-timer-bomb

Signifigativo (jesse)
electiones cambian nada que tanto
una lema idiota para las idiotas
el voto local es signifigativo
el nacional no es nada
los dogmaticos creanlos ciegos
los seguidores por el derecho
por la izquierda y por el centro
la dogma obscura atajaste
antes que puedes pensar
las palabras dogmaticas por los
debiles y los perezosos
lees los periodicos y
consultas con la almohada
paras la oreja
usas el cerebro

Parlez-vous Fuck You? (jesse)
you make me sick with your porn movie moves
there’s many more women stronger than you
not worth my contempt, just my endurance
next year you’ll be in business, good riddance!
the way you laugh makes me cringe
you don’t know how to lose or how to win
you cheat you complain you bend the rules
a simple card game betrays you
parlez-vous fuck you? fuck you!

Notes On A Barf Bag (Final Approach) (jesse)
boom boom goes the motor
boom boom go the gears
crash crash – there’s the wreck
dead dead – where’s my head
fasten seatbelt while seated
use seat cushion for floatation
brace position like that’ll help
air turbulence
experiencing discomfort
wind shear and pilot error
metal concrete flying with the greatest of ease
ever courteous ever safe always clean
except when…

I Feel Funny Again (jesse)
late night brain freeze keeps me awake
I’ve jerked off gone to work read and ate
mind’s running at one hundred per
sitting straight up staring glassy stare
nothing narcotic’s doing it
it’s boredom pure uncut
times like this I’m all cartoon
whirlpool lines above this loon
too broke for sleeping pills
no car to drive through the hills
can’t call that girl cuz it’s three
twenty-six years and it’s still just me
uh,uh, I feel funny again
blank as a barn door dumb as a nun
five times this month I’ve greeted the sun
insomnia no cuz I’m not that kind of sick
done everything possible nothing does the trick

Latex Drool (jesse)
special love for special people
stuttering stumbling through the gates
splashing soaked in the tunnel of love
we don’t know what we’re doing and we feel fine
shot the wad (now let’s) shootthe moon
credit’s due to leaky latex and allstar drool
can anyone topsy this turvy and survive?
ask every seven and fifty two and all three six five
money’s good only for more fuel and rent
fuel’s good to kickstart the deed under the limit
rent’s good to give a place for afternoon shaggin’
limits don’t exist as well they never did or else
the love that dare not wreak his mane
lolling about covered in lusty busty sin
after the dust settles we’re picking hair out of teeth
arythmic fumbling and lotsa fun love of the geek

Get Over It (jesse)
“who are you and what do you want?”
none of your concern big boy
confront me for being a freak, you’re next
come onto me fake and I’m all about coy
ambiguity is my kryptonite shield
no clue where I am- not your business
I bathe in your verbal epithets your ignorance
keep guessing, hear rumors, my way of life
labels are your insecurity
labels are my only best refuge
dividing you behind them
but that’s my only defense
none of your business get over it
none of your business you’l know if it is
maybe I suck cock maybe I suck cunt
if you ain’t my type you’ll never know
ain’t no thing- get over it
am i mormon or skanky low-down ho

Never Been Caught (Zodiac Killer [assisted by brady])
peek-a-boo you’re doomed!
he plunged himself into the billowy wave
and an echo arose from the suicide’s grave
i thought you would need a good laugh
before you hear the bad news
sick of living/
unwilling to die
cut
clean
if red
clean
blood
i feel it in my bones you ache to know my name
so i’ll clue you in – but then why spoil our game
don’t bury me on the back pages like some of the others
i get awfully lonely when i am ignored so lonely i could do my thing
i got a little list of society offenders
who might well be underground who would never be missed
i think i shall wipe out a school bus- just shoot out the front tire
and then pick off the kiddies as they come bouncing out
standing in the cold rain – never been caught
sniffin’ glue and stalkin’ you – never been caught

CST Bitch (jesse)
blood on my arms proves that i am drunk
we’re nostalgia bloody ultimate punk
relive days that meant nothing to us then
now we claim o.g. we don’t have to pretend
i loved it then and i love it now
different back then but reality’s right now
wouldn’t trade my past for no gold
now our memories are being bought and sold
a sense of self and years gone by
gives me strength to keep on trying

Morning After (jesse)
(for genoa and pultney grove)
last night’s a night i want to forget though i can’t remember a thing
I guess i passed out on the floor with spittle running down my chin
woke up drunk stumbled down stairs swaying with each step
stepping over sleeping people passed out who i’ve never met
bottles scattered on every surface, ashtrays everywhere
smelly boots and leather jackets thrown under broken chairs
stale cigarette smoke lingers, it’s sunk into the grime
we’ll stink of last night’s beer and smoke ’till the end of time
those goddamn birds are singing, it’s too early in the day
the evil neighbors glare at me they want us to move away
the yard’s an apocalypse of broken glass, neighbors always complain
only twelve’o clock in the afternoon, at least it’s cloudy again