1. |
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Between the Jesus freaks
And the Juggalos
You got a lotta
Splainin to do
Between Motown and Amarillo
You crusaders who bite the pillow
You gotta lotta
Splainin to do
Between the past that never was
And the future that'll never be
You got a lotta
Splainin to do
|
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2. |
Five Minutes
03:33
|
|
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She got dubious interests
She got a misspelled tattoo
She's convinced I want to check it out
And you too
Miss don't misunderstand
I do pray to Yoni when I can
But life is short enough to wonder
Can I survive five minutes with you?
Can I provide five minutes with you?
Can I abide five
Can I survive five minutes with you
Tit work and obvious boredom
And skin the color of fruit
I'm not expecting Dorothy Parker
But you don't spell "you" with the letter u
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3. |
|
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Step One
Blame the absent
It was your predecessor's fault
(By the way, that's not going to be effective in Japan)
Step Two
Blame the lawyers
Produce copies of all their okays
Just don't produce the memos where you told them what to say
Step Three
Invoke the yuppie Nuremberg defense
Talk about your mortgage, your family, your daughter at Yale
Remember: you're just plain folks
There are things we don't know that we don't know
And there are things we don't know we know
And things we know and
Things we know that we don't know.
Step Four
Look for a technical angle
There's almost nothing that can't be blamed
On teenage Pakistani hackers
Step Five
You did it because you're an addict
Sex, booze, gambling, whatever
F. Scott Fitzgerald was wrong
There's nothing but second acts in American life
Step Six
Try saying something like
"Now is the time for reflection, not for retribution."
Do not flinch when you say this. Never flinch!
Step Seven
When all else fails, call a press conference
Grasp both sides of the podium, stand tall
Take a deep breath, look into the cameras and admit
That you
Had bad information
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4. |
Burlesque
03:19
|
|
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|
I do recall the day we met
I was applying a tourniquet
I couldn't stop the bleeding
Thanks to the guy across the street
She told me about a better way
To make the problem go away
A 757 to the rotunda in the East
Maker, law maker
Give me a dance
Maker, law maker
Give me a bump
Give me a grind
And a helping hand
If you're so inclined
When we took it to the VIP
Second thoughts were eating me
Could it be this simple, no
Could it be this clean?
He threw his head back to laugh
And thereupon fell off my lap
But never lost his death grip
On my briefcase filled with green
Maker law maker
Give me a dance
Maker law maker
Give me a bump
Maker law maker
Give me a bump
Give me a grind
And a helping hand
If you're so inclined
I used to live in a pretty rough part
Of my gated community
|
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SIRS Chicago
Hailing from a town in western Sweden called Chicagö, Sirs was formed to eliminate the middleman and pass the savings on to you.
SIRS recommends:
Strong Drunk Hands
by We'll Go Machete
WGM is hard, sharp and flaps like a tarp.
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