by Michael Psycho



released February 20, 2001


all rights reserved



Michael Psycho

Old, angry guy and reputedly the world's most hated musician. Creator of DIY classics such as the 1990 vinyl slab named "Think" (re-released on S-S Records in 2014). The world is his playpen. He always gets what he wants in the end. He has the uncanny ability to witness karma and schadenfreude simultaneously. People in "I ♥ Haters" shirts hate him. ... more

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Track Name: The Day I Failed The Majors
("There aren't any lyrics, really. This is a comedic skit intended as a separate intro to the song "Lemmings". Those of you who are too young to get hip to this kind of track, Google "Cheech and Chong" or "National Lampoon Radio Hour". Better yet, ask your grandparents if they have those kinds of records next time you're over at their house. If they smoked pot, or still do, they probably have 'em." -MP)
Track Name: Lemmings
The little people need another hunk of meat

Here's the latest pretty boys all young and cute and sweet

They'll get their best hacks to write 'em catchy tunes

If they burn out just get another group of goons

CHORUS: You couldn't like this song and I'm not sorry

You wouldn't buy this song and I won't cry

You don't like anything until you're told to

You'll just be lemmings 'til you die...

They have a stranglehold on all the industry

Commercial radio is their sole property

If it don't catch the fish each time the net is thrown

And line their bank accounts, it's just not good to go
Track Name: More To Life (You're Boring)
There's more to life than punk rock
You're boring, boring, boring, boring
Take some classes, read a book
You're boring, boring, boring, boring
I don't care what bands you've seen
I don't care about the fuckin' scene
There's more to the world than that
More than acting like a fuckin' brat

There's more to life than punk rock
You're boring, boring, boring, boring
Wear some clean clothes, get a job
You're boring, boring, boring, boring
Just another lame ass fan
Seen the same half dozen bands
Think I'm fucked up? I don't care
You're just a poseur with fucked up hair

You're boring, boring, boring
You're boring, boring, boring
You're boring, boring, boring

There's more to life than punk rock
You're boring, boring, boring, boring

Get the fuck out of my face you shoplifting motherfucker!
Track Name: Uh Huh, Yeah, Uh Huh (I Understand)
Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

Come on in!

I'll show you my etchings

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

Have a Dr. Pepper and rum.

This stuff used to get us drunk when we were younger!

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

That's very interesting....

Tell me more!

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

Are you losing weight?

Well, gee, you look great!

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

Ha ha ha ha ha ha

Gee, you're a funny lady.

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

I took this course

They said, "Let the girls talk. They want to be noticed."

So anyway...

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

I'm in favor of PEACE!!!

What's that you say? "Christians to the lions?"

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand

Are you getting drunk?

Well, maybe you want to crash here...

Uh huh, yeah, uh huh I understand
Track Name: Cut Them Loose
I’m sick and tired of all these rich folks

Bitching and moaning about their taxes

Like a bunch of fuckin’ babies

Like they’re all gonna starve to death

We will never be served with the truth

Maybe we just need to cut them loose

And what’s up with the fuckin’ government

Sucking on the dicks of the special interests

What the fuck do they think they are

They just care about what side the butter’s on

And what’s up with the TV news

They try to influence how you think

They’re just a bunch of overpaid assholes

Telling you who got killed today
Track Name: Ignoramus Cum Laude
You tried to play me for your gain

You must have thought I was insane

Go ahead

Play your juvie games

Use name calling if you choose

But if I am such a loser

Then how come you always lose?

You thought you had me in a trap

You thought you sold me on your crap

I won't buy your pitch

No, I wouldn't play your game

And next time you need to play the victim

Bet you'll drop my name

Because you're IGNORANT

You're ignorant and evil

And that's twice as dangerous

For everyone who'll cross your path

Because you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance

And that makes it even worse

You're more likely to destroy

Innocent lives, innocent people

Will get hurt by your flaws

You won't hold yourself accountible

You won't really give a fuck

Because you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance

You don't care

You know everything

You demand we should bow to you

But you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance


That's the saddest thing to see

That you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance

If someone puts their trust in you

That's just someone to use

When someone shows some love to you

You play them for a fool

If there's any true justice in this world

You will crush yourself to death

With the weight of your sophistry

Because you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance

The saddest thing is that

You think you know more than you really know
And you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance

And you think you know the score

But you're just like all the rest

Of the greedy social whores

Including those that you detest

I don't care if you went to college

Your refinement is a ruse

Because you're ignorant

Of your own ignorance
Track Name: Hi!

I wrote this song here just for you

Because I had to tell the world

About what a fuckin’ jerk you are.


Would ever want to look at you

Would ever want to listen to you

Would ever want to ever be you.

You think

That we all should follow you

Like you’re some kind of demigod

But God wouldn’t be as lame as you are.

Yeah you

Act like you’ve got some kind of plan

But you’re just a pathetic man

Who doesn’t have a pot to piss in

For brains.

Or even one fuckin’ thing to say

That makes any sense anyway.

Why don’t you kill yourself and spare us?

Yeah you

You play me like I’m a dumb asshole

But at least I’ve got heart and soul

Unlike you, whose life is nothing.

Yeah you

You’re just a waste of your Daddy’s sperm

You’re just a waste of time and space

You make me want to fuckin’ kill you

Yeah you

You’re just a waste of your Daddy’s sperm

You’re just a waste of time and space

You make me want to puke all over you

All over you!

Track Name: System Of Error
Just another face in the crowd, and I'm scheming

What I'm gonna do with my life, 'cause I'm dreaming

Of a violent overthrow of the country

'Cause it doesn't do a damn thing for me.

System of error getting worse every day

And people tell me, "Hey, what can you do?"

But when I'm off of this plane and I get my wings,

Watch out, 'cause I'm coming for you.

In and out of one hole after the other,

Don't know why I'm still here at all.

Ah, but I figure if I postpone the noose or the gun,

I may see some of you villians fall.

A system of error getting worse every day,

And people tell me "Hey, what can you do?"

But when I'm off of this plane and I get my wings,

Watch out, 'cause I'm coming for you.

Running and screaming,

Watch it 'cause I'm coming for you.

System of error...

"...what can you do?"

Voices in your head...

Stuck inside your head.


Running and screaming...

Track Name: Am I There Yet?
She kind of likes her menial job at Denny’s. She puts in her graveyard shift, 8 hours, then back to the residential hotel. A lovely Victorian piece of deterioration with a picturesque view of a swill-soaked alleyway. As she wonders if it’s a good night to score some heroin, she counts her tips and softly makes an appeal to God.

Am I there yet?

Am I there?

Bill ran out of medication this morning. His state medical assistance was cut off last month. He’s starting to hear those voices again, just like when they found him out by the river. Presently, they’re telling him that the CIA knows he’s still got the chip the aliens implanted in his thigh, and the agents have been putting sodium penathol in his tap water. He knows they won’t make him snitch, but then there’s a knock on the door; he thinks it’s a pair of agents come to grill him at last, but actually it’s the landlord and the hotel manager coming to collect the rent. He suddenly runs to his window, leans out and bellows at the top of his lungs.

Am I there yet?

Am I there?

It’s an okay job, as far as jobs paying what he gets paid tend to go. A little puke or piss to clean up once in a while, or a drunk or deadbeat to kick out occasionally, but that’s not too often. He was reading a story in the Weekly World News about how members of the Knights Templar were the ones really in charge of the Trilateralists, the Catholic Church, and the Monkees reunion tour, when the guy in the hooded sweatshirt walked in. There wasn’t even any words, no “stick ‘em up” or anything, the guy just produced a Smith and Wesson .38 and discharged the weapon once in the bartender’s face. At the one crucial last moment frozen in time as the poor kid stared at the seemingly endless tunnel of the handgun’s barrel, the question suddenly and inexplicably entered his head.

Am I there yet?

Am I there?

Giuseppe was hauling ass out of the door of his condominium. Fresh in town from the relocation at the behest of his father, the reputed mob boss Don Jacuzzi, he was the poster boy for the Optimist Society tonight. Hopping like an Olympian over the door of his Ferrari convertible, his mind was clearly fixed upon the evening ahead. It was time to meet for coffee with the freak he’d met through the personals section of the local weekly free newspaper. Nearly maintaining an erection from the anticipation alone, he turned the ignition.


Ciao baby.

Within 2 hours, the FBI, the ATF, the local and the state law enforcement were carefully combing the scene, scooping up
microscopic bits of explosive material and Giuseppe as well.
Don Jacuzzi received the call late that night. He thanked the agent on the phone, hung up and stared at the Long Island Oceanside. Suddenly, he clutched his chest, and the most beautiful cherubic winged figure came forth from a tunnel of light and held his hand, and suddenly everything seemed all right.

Later, at the double funeral of her husband and son, Mrs. Jacuzzi related to friends and relatives that when she entered the room, the Don was just laying there moaning and groaning something that she swore sounded like he was saying…
Track Name: I Want To Be A Slut, Just Like You
I wanna be a slut, just like you

'Cause you're my hero, dude

At least I'll never be lonely

Who cares if I catch an STD

Or two or three

I wanna be a slut, just like you

'Cause you're my hero, dude

I envy the life you've led

You get to mess with women's heads

And make them think you bared your soul to them

It's their fault if they didn't know

It was just pretend

Just to git ya some

I wanna be a slut, just like you

'Cause you're my hero, dude

At least I'll never be lonely

Who cares if you spread an STD

Or two or three
Track Name: Look The Other Way
Look away

Look away and look the other way

Look the other way look away and walk the other way

And when they come to you someday to take what you've got

I want to hear you whine about how everything came crashing down

And those who you elected could do nothing to control them

Just look the other way...

Look the other way 'cause you know you're really good at it

Look the other way 'cause you've been so well trained by your parents

As more and more people are kicked to the curb every day

More and more people are malnourished every single day

More and more children are dying every single day

So look the other way

So look the other way

So look the other way you don't want to be taken advantage of

Look the other way your friends and family would disapprove

And besides it's too hopeless and you've got your own life to live

You've got your own bills to pay and they're all there

'Cause they're just lazy no good deadbeats anyway

That's what all your trusted sources say

So look the other way

Just look the other way

Look the other way it's much easier that way

Look the other way when you hear their neighbors beat their kids

And you hear them scream bloody murder as they're being tortured

Look the other way

After all it's none of your business

Is it
Track Name: Workingman
He's a workingman, an uptight businessman

He's got his medical plan and his 401k

He's got his stock options and his Fannie Mae

And he's gonna have a coronary anyday

And he goes for it

And he never quits

And the boss has a big stick up his ass

And he's got some crucial meetings to go to

And he's constipated almost every day

And he thinks there's too much government

Especially when he's trying to rip people off

Or when he wants to tear up on Mother Earth

Those lawmakers don't know how much that stuff is worth

And he makes bipartisan contributions

So he gets both sides to do him favors

And he lives in a gated community

Where minorities are only seen on TV

And he knows he'll have the boss' job someday

Even though he knows that day is very far away

And the chances of success is very poor

But he keeps trying anyway 'cause he's very well trained

And he wears a suit that he got off the rack

Of the local establishment uniform store

And he sits at his desk waiting for something to do

And he knows he'll have a job 'til he gets downsized

And he's got car payments and he's got bad credit

And his ass is getting big and fatter everyday

And he sold his soul for a salary

When they drop him in the hole he'll finally be free...
Track Name: Chickenfucker Blues
You’re a chickenfucker, and you smell just like my dog

Dirty whiskey sucker, just a lump upon a log

Conscience full of sickness and your heart and mind are swill

If your maw won’t fuck you then I’ll bet your sister probably will

First I load my guns with clips in case I need defense

Second comes your visit to my place of residence

Third if you get fowl with me it really makes no difference

If you came to fuck around I guess I’ll have to plow you down
Track Name: The Ballad Of Chief The Wino
Chief the Wino

Really has his program down.

He gets up in the morning,

And he goes to the charity,

And he gets his free hot meal,

Then he goes back to the neighborhood,

And he hangs out at the liquor store,

Then he goes off and gets all drunk,

Then he passes out in the park,

Or an alley or a doorway.

Then the next day he does it again

And it’s the same thing but everyday it’s the same.

Chief the Wino

Really pisses people off somehow

‘Cause he won’t play by their rules.

He won’t participate in their games

Where the most toys gets respect

And alcoholics belong in bars

Every happy hour after work

With a chance to have some miserable sex

Not necessarily with your spouse.

That’s the rules of society

And the Chief is a criminal

‘Cause he chose the street.

What’s the difference

Between a street bum getting drunk

And getting jerked around for minimum wage

And going out and drinking every day

To drink your paycheck to an early grave?

You have a reputation to retain.

But you’re just a wino

With a roof stuck over your head.

One heart attack or stroke and you’ll be dead

And the Chief will still be here and the same.

You’re just a wino,

An over glorified wino,

A socially acceptable wino.

Who are you to judge your peers on the curb?
Track Name: You're A Real Card, A Face Card
Well, well, well, here you go again

Trying to pretend like you're my friend

And kissing my ass just like you want to blow me.

Just as soon as I walk away

You turn to someone else and say

I'm just a fuckin' chump and you don't want to know me.

Being so two-faced

Must be a hard thing to do.

Bet it's a real pain.

Glad I'm not you.

Talk that talk and you talk your shit

And then when somebody calls you on it

You just shut your mouth or else you change your story.

I refuse to play your game

My statements all stay the same

What you see is what you get is what I'll tell you

To your face, motherfucker.

Being so two faced

Must be a hard thing to do.

Bet you don't sleep well.

Glad I'm not you.

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