Stoned Crow Picnic

by Michael Psycho

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credits

released August 8, 2006

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license

all rights reserved

about

Michael Psycho Sacramento, California

Born and raised in the Boston area, exiled to Sacramento California during the historic Forced March of 1984. Creator of DIY classics such as the 1990 vinyl slab named "Think" (re-released on SS 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: Resistance
Don’t you care anymore?

You tossed your values out the door.

Your views are trash.



Don’t give up yet, the time is right

To reach the surface again and fight.



Fight before they take your mind

Away from you.



Resistance.

It’s a dirty term

To authorities who think that

You’re a filthy germ.

They don’t care if you live,

As they’d rather see you dead.

Piss ‘em off just once,

And you’re on their files.

Some free country, eh?



Fight before they take your mind

Away from you.



JUST SHOW RESISTANCE
Track Name: 27,375
I want to marry that junkie wench with the evil eye in my dreams.

That would be romantic, just like the Nazis were.



I want to die.

I want to kill my folks.



I’m afraid of that junkie wench with the evil eye, but it feels

so romantic like the Nazis used to be.



I want to die.

I want to kill my folks

just like the Lizard King.

I’m his illegitimate son.



I’ve got ten thousand days

And counting.
Track Name: Fat Cat
Jolly little fat cat

See him out at play

See the evil eye he gives me

When I pass his way

Don’t be troubled fat cat

No need for dismay

I don’t need your copper

Or your girl today



Take it easy

That beast can’t stand the strain

You’ll soon be writhing

And screeching in pain

Fat upon fat

Covering your bod’s design

One wrong impulse

And you’re dying…



Kerouac and Falstaff

Got no claim on you

Plus to be a writer

Means less movement too

All your new bride’s cooking

Piling on your frame

Though you look repulsive

You never feel ashamed



Fat cat, you poor slob

You need help from above

Someone may love you

But love is not enough

Living in excess

Will get you in the end

One wrong impulse

And you’re dying…
Track Name: Tweakbeard
When she came along

I thought I had a score

But after a while, I realized

I's worse off than before

When she ran afoul of me

She hurt me worst of all

But then again I had no choice

'Cept sit and watch her fall



Sometimes, I'd wish she'd come and play

Sometimes, I'd wish that she was dead



She'd assault my inner ear with nothing but complaints

Then she was sweet as she can be as soon as she had crank

She dragged my poor heart all around and never gave a care

Then when she'd flip and tweak on me she'd catch me unawares

Sometimes, I'd wish she'd come and play

Sometimes, I'd wish that I was dead
Track Name: Metropolitan Media
Pretty fingers nibbling into my spine

I feel a rush a fixed ideal

To stifle my mind

Indictment of a different kind



Ah, to rectify your endless pursuit

Of what you can’t obtain

But you’ll try anyway to get your fix

And feed your brain and try to forget

The fading dreams that rot with the time

Oh well we all live with ourselves in the end

Don’t We?



Ah, set in your chivalric novel

To be turned into a film

You set us up as your characters

To be spat on and dispensable

Don’t you?

Like a used tissue

Discarded when worthless…
Track Name: Candyass
It’s only come down to one thing at all

It’s ugly and pretty like New York in the fall



In the city you can shoot up dope

In the city you can fire hope

In your vein.



Some folks like the fresh air on the farm

And some folks like a good load in the arm



In the city you can score some dope

In the city you can store some hope

Or go insane either way.



Shooting up dope

Loading up hope

If you can’t cope

Keep away from a rope.



In the city you can take a ride

In the city you can postpone suicide

With a rig.



Your Mom knows you’re a junkie, so damn what?

She doesn’t know this great thing that you’ve got

In the city you could well OD

In the city that just sets you free

This you know.
Track Name: What The Hell Happened?
I remember when we were both youngins

And you were a beauty in full bloom

Then you met some certain guys

And took a walk on the wild side

What the Hell happened to you?



Nowadays, you look like you live in a trailer.

You look like you got a man in jail.

You once looked so good and unpolluted and legitimate

And now you’re just a white trash mama; oh… my… God.



Nowadays, you look like you’re on stages

Taking off your clothes in front of men.

You look like you sell a lot of lap dances for $20

But then again, not too many… oh… my… God.



I admit I’m not the same old youngin

I ain’t got the looks I had myself

My cholesterol keeps doctors scared

And I done lost some teeth and hair

But I ain’t as turned as you’ve turned out to be.



What the Hell happened? Oh… my… God!
Track Name: God Jacked Off
God jacked off

And out came the universe

They have argued for centuries

Over how he did it. You know,

Some say he used his hand;

Others think he had a wet dream.

But I say he jacked off

And out came the universe.



God jacked off

And out came the universe.

Tell that to all your pseudo intellectual friends

At the coffeehouse.

Tell them, “God jacked off,

And out came the universe.”

Tell them all of a sudden.

Watch them choke on their espresso.



God jacked off,

And out came the universe.

Some call it heresy;

Others call it blasphemy.

My accusers are fools.

They refuse to see the truth.

And the truth of the matter is…



God jacked off and out came the universe.
Track Name: Words
Dude… it’s… only… words…



Where the Hell’s your fuckin’ mind?

Am I stuck here wasting time?

You don’t even care about what I say.

You can’t use your brain.



You don’t care about life or death

All you care about is going deaf

You don’t really care about what I say.

You can’t use your brain!
Track Name: Boygirlcarbummer
She said, “I’ve gotta leave you, baby,

So I can hang on to my CAR!”

She said, “I’ve got to leave you, honey,

So I can keep my CAR!

‘Cause if I don’t leave you, baby,

Mom and Dad will take away my CAR

‘Cause they HATE you, BABY!”



She said, “I’m being forced to CHOOSE,

Choose between you and my CAR!

My mom and dad are forcing me to choose…

Choose between you and my CAR!

You know, there’s some things I can do without, and honey,

I love you so much and I can’t live without… my CAR!!

So, I’ll SEE you, baby.”
Track Name: Dollars And Cents
Money is their God



Dollars and cents

Make your life go on

Dollars and cents

Determine what you are

Dollars and cents

Are what make the rules

Dollars and cents

Are how people will judge you
Track Name: Pagan Christ
Can’t understand the people these days

Don’t know why they don’t think harder

“Better repent, or give up,

Unless you want a ticket to Hell.”



People better smarten up

Or they’ll send us all straight down to Hell

Don’t care what you pagans say,

The mother of your savior was a slut!
Track Name: Plastic Hippie Utopia
We’re plastic hippies



And screw everyone who does not understand

Who can’t comprehend our slick utopian plans

Where everyone’s happy and everyone vilt be nice

Our own little plastic hippie paradise



We’re plastic hippies



We’ll walk around naked and garden every day

We’ll bang on our drums and make love every night

We’re living like a bunch of monkeys at the zoo

Except monkeys at the zoo got better things to do



Than most plastic hippies…
Track Name: Java Suckers
The java suckers at the corner café

Thinking that they’re special

They’re there every day

Speak to each other yet they don’t say a thing

Some play guitars and pretend they can sing

Needing a life they just sit and act cool

Sipping on a liquid that darkens their stool

Sometimes all day and always at night

You java suckin’ java suckers, get a fuckin’ life



The java suckers at the corner café

Thinking that they’re special

They’re there every day

Speak to each other yet they don’t say a thing

Some read their poems thinking they’re interesting

How can they stand it there day after day

Where in the Hell do they get all that money for lattes

Sometimes all day and always at night

You java sucking java suckers, get a fuckin’ life