Give Me Convience Or Give Me Death

Alternative Tentacles; June 1987.


  1. Police Truck
  2. Too Drunk To Fuck
  3. California Uber Alles
  4. Man With The Dogs
  5. In-Sight
  6. Life Sentence
  7. A Child And His Lawnmower
  8. Holiday In Cambodia
  9. I Fought The Law (And I Won)
  10. Saturday Night Holocaust
  11. Pull My Strings
  12. Short Songs
  13. Straight A's
  14. Kinky Sex Makes The World Go 'Round
  15. The Prey
  16. Buzzbomb From Pasadena
  17. Night Of The Living Rednecks

Police Truck


Tonight's the night that we got the truck
We're goin' downtown gonna beat up drunks
Your turn to drive I'll bring the beer
It's the late late shift to one to fear
And ride, ride how we ride
We ride, lowride

It's roundup time where the good whores meet
Gonna drag one screaming off the street
And ride, ride how we ride
Got a black uniform and a silver badge
Playin' cops for real, playin' cops for pay
Let's ride, lowride

Pull down your dress here's a kick in the ass
Let's beat you blue 'til you shit in your pants
Don't move, child gotta big black stick
There's six of us, babe so suck on my dick
And ride, ride how we ride
Let's ride, lowride

The left newspapers migth whine a bit
But the guys at the station they don't give a shit
Dispatch calls 'Are you doin' something wicked?'
'No siree, Jack, we're just givin' tickets'
As we ride, ride how we ride
Let's ride, lowride

Too Drunk To Fuck


Went to a party
I danced all night
I drank 16 beers
And I started up a fight
But now I'm jaded
You're out of luck
I'm rolling down the stairs
Too drunk to fuck

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk
To fuck
I'm too drunk, too drunk, too drunk
To fuck

I like your stories
I like your gun
Shooting out cop tires
Sounds like loads and loads of fun
But in my room
Wish you were dead
You ball like the baby
In Eraserhead

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk
To fuck
It's all I need right now
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk
To fuck
I'm sick soft gooey and cold
Too drunk to fuck

I'm about to drop
My head's a mess
The only salvation is I'll never see you again
You give me head
It makes it worse
Take out your fuckin' retainer
Put it in your purse

Too drunk to fuck
You're too drunk to fuck
Too drunk To fuck
It's all I need right now
Oh baby I'm melting like an ice cream bar
Oh baby
And now I got diarrhea
Too drunk to fuck Yeah, Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah,
Yeah Oooohhh... 

California Uber Alles

I am governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles and never frowns
Soon I will be president
Carter power will soon go away
I will be Fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Your kids will meditate in school

California Uber alles
California Uber alles
Uber alles California
Uber alles California

Zen fascists will control you
Hundred percent natural
You will jog for the master race
And alway wear the happy face
Close your eyes, can't happen here
Big bro' on white horse is near
The hippies won't come back you say
Mellow out or you will pay
Mellow out or you will pay

California Uber alles
California Uber alles
Uber alles California
Uber alles California

Now it is 1984
Knock knock at your front door
It's the suede denim secret police
They have come for your uncool niece
Come quietly to the camp
You'd look nice as a drawstring lamp
Don't you worry it's only a shower
For your clothes here's a pretty flower
Die on organic poison gas
Serpents eggs already hatched
You will croak you little clown
When you mess with president Brown
When you mess with president Brown

California Uber alles
California Uber alles
Uber alles California
Uber alles California 

Man With The Dogs

I am no one
But I am well known
For I am the Man With the Dogs
I stare at you shopping
Watch while you're walking
Two dogs run around your toes
You turn around
Two eyes break you down
'Now who does that guy think he's starin' at?'
Stop in your tracks
You're being laughed at
Your armored ego is nude

And I do and I do
Crack up 'cos I'm getting to you
I see you I see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too

Down to you church I'm looking for victims
Spell of the Man With the Dogs
I'll haunt you
And follow you to work
That ghost is back again
Creep into you
I won't go away
You're taking yourself too seriously
I smile as you frown
And turn to walk away
Your habits for all to see

I see a shrew I see you
And the rodent things you do
You see you I see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too

And I'm gonna crack your mask
Yeah, and I'm gonna laugh Open wide...
Saw you again
You'll see me tomorrow
Curse of the Man With the Dogs
You may not like me
You won't forget me
Not safe even in Walgreen's
They've seen me
Ask your friends
'Oh I know him'
Seen but I'm never heard
By your lot A stare
Is worth a thousand biting phrases
See how stupid you are?
I dare you I dare you
To erase my laser tattoo
You see you you see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too
And I'm gonna crack your mask
Yeah, and I'm gonna laugh
What's inside?

Is it pubic hair
Is it cobweb air
I bet you just don't care... 

In-Sight

Who's that kid in the back of the room?
Who's that kid in the back of the room?
He's setting all his papers on fire
He's setting all his papers on fire
Where did he get that crazy smile?
Where did he get that crazy smile?
We all think he's really weird
We all think he's really weird

We never talk to him
He never looks quite right
He laughs at us
We just beat him up
What he sees escapes our sight

We never see him with the girls
We never see him with the girls
He's talking to himself again
He's talking to himself again
Why doesn't he want tons of friends?
Why doesn't he want tons of friends?
Says he's bored when we hang around
Says he's bored when we hang around

We never talk to him
He never looks quite right
He laughs at us
We just beat him up
What he sees escapes our sight

We're all planning our careers
We're all planning our careers
We're all planning our careers
He says we're growing old... 

Life Sentence

You used to be a partner in crime
Now you say you ain't go the time
Gotta get serious, gotta plan
Gotta pass those entrance exams
Oh my God
It's senior year
All you care about is your career
It's a life sentence
It's a life sentence
It's a life sentence
It's a life sentence

You're squelching your emotions
All you talk about is old times
You don't do what you want to
But you do the same thing everyday
No sense of humor
But such good manners
Now you're an adult
You're boring

It's your life sentence
It's your life sentence
It's your life sentence
It's your life sentence

The walls are closing in
You stayed too long in school
I'd rather stay a child
And keep my self-respect
It being an adult
Means being like you
Are you really you you you you you you you you you
Are you really you?
No
You're a chained-up dog in a yard
Don't see much, you can't go far
Pace and froth, you're getting sick
Run too fast it'll snap your neck
You say you'll break out
But you never do
You're just another ant in the hill
That's your life sentence 

A Child And His Lawnmower

Some clown in
Sacramento was drugged into court
He shot his lawnmower
It disobeyed, it wouldn't start
Might makes right, it's the American Way (R)
They fined him $60 and sent him on his way
You know, some people don't take no shit
Maybe if they did if they'd have half a brain left
You know, some people don't take no shit
Maybe if they did if they'd have half a brain left 

Holiday In Cambodia

So you've been to school for a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car thinkin' you'll go far
Back east you type don't crawl
Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz
On you five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know how the niggers feel the cold
And the slum's got so much soul
It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't foget to pack a wife

You're a star-belly sneech you suck like a leech
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch so you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you
Well you'll work harder with a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers 'til you starve
Then you head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son...
What you need, my son...
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack
Pol Pot,
Pol Pot,
Pol Pot,
Pol Pot etc.

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll what you're told

A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slum's got so much soul 

I Fought The Law (And I Won)

Drinkin' beer in the hot sun
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won
I needed sex and I got mine
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

The law don't mean shit if you've got the right friends
That's how this country's run
Twinkies are the best friend I've ever had
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I blew George & Harvey's brains out with my six-gun
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won
Gonna write my book and make a million
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I'm the new folk hero of the Ku Klux Klan
My cop friends think that's fine
You can get away with murder if you've got a badge
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I am the law
So I won 

Saturday Night Holocaust

There's a prefab building and a funny smell
Around the hill outside of town
Every now and then we wonder
But we shrug our shoulders
And get back to work...

There's a railroad there and trains go by
And there's people locked in cattle cars
And have you noticed
The french fries at the A&W
Taste a little strange?

I drive down to the disco
Pompadour and pink lamme
I bow and blow the doorman
He parts the chain, says join the game
A quick line in the girls' room
To the bar for the electrodes
A coin into the right slit
Tape my temple, watch me go
Blacks are banned, 'cept on the records
O' life's a cabaret Like Berlin, 1930
All I crave is my escape

Now I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I wnat your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
Slip my fingers down your Barbie-doll dress
Up and down your Spandex ass

If I lit a match to you
You'd melt before my eyes
C'mere my pretty glow-worm
You look so fine to dance with me
The fly-eye lights a-throbbin'
I'm burning up the floor
Whirling twirling
Close my eyes
No faces judging me

But I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I wnat your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
Slip my fingers down your Barbie-doll dress
Up and down your Spandex ass

A Hitler youth in jogging suit
Smiling face banded 'round his arm
Says 'Line up, you've got work to do
We need dog food for the poor'
A scream bleats out, we're herded into lines
Customized vans wait outside
I'm getting scared of my new home
To Auschwitz Condominiums we go
Oh no
But I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I wnat your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
Let my fingers down your dress
One more time... 

Pull My Strings

I'm tired of self-respect
I can't afford a car
I wanna be a prefab superstar
I wanna be a tool
Don't need no soul
Wanna make big money
Playing rock and roll

I'll make my music boring
I'll play my music slow
I ain't no artist
I'm a businessman
No ideas of my own

I won't offend
Or rock the boat
Just sex and drugs
And rock and roll

Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool (etc.) My payola!
Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool (etc.) My payola!

You'll pay ten bucks to see me
On a fifteen foot high stage
Fatass bouncers kick the shit
Out of kids who try to dance
If my friends say I''ve lost my guts"
I'll laugh and say
That's rock and roll
But there's just one problem...

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star
Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

And when I'm rich
And meet Bob Hope
We'll shoot some golf
And shoot some dope

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star
Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far 

Short Songs

I love short songs. 

Straight A's

Sixteen, on the honor roll
I wish that I was dead
Parents hate me, I got zits
And bruises round my head
Pressure's on to get good grates
So I can be like them
Do my homework all the time
I can't go out just then
People they ain;t friends at all
They tease and suck me dry
Yell at me when I fuck up
And party while I cry
I look so big on paper
I feel so fucking small
Wanna die and you don't care
Just stride on down the hall

Suicide suicide
Read the paper, wonder why
Turn the light out, then you cry
It's you fault, you made me die

Touch me won't you touch me now
So frozen I can't love
When I was born my mama cried
And picked me up with gloves
Girls, they kick me in the eye
Want answers to the tests
When they get them they drive off
And leave me home to rest
Hold my head
Make me warm
Tell me I am loved
Give me hope
Let me cry
Make me feel
Give me touch

The window's broken bleeding screaming
Lying in the hall
I'm gone no one remembers me
A picture on the wall 'He was such a bright boy The future in his hands...'
- Or a spineless human pinball
Shot around by your demands

Suicide suicide
Goin' to sleep and when I die
You'll look up and realize
Then look down and wipe your eyes
Then go back to your stupid lives
Aw shit 

Kinky Sex Makes The World Go 'Round

Greetings... This is the Secretary at the State Department of the United States... We have a problem. The companies want something done about this sluggish world economic situation... Profits have been running a little thin lately and we need to stimulate some growth... Now we know there's an alarming high number of young people roaming around in your country with nothing to do but stir up trouble for the police and damage private property. It doesn't look like they'll ever get a job... It's about time we did something constructive with these people... We've got thousands of 'em here too. They're crawling all over... The companies think it's time we all sit down, have a serious get-together - and start another war... The president? He loves the idea! All those missiles streaming overhead to and fro... Napalm... People running down the road, skin on fire... The Soviets seem up for it... The Kremlin's been itching for the real thing for years. Hell, Afghanistan's no fun... So whadya say?... We don't even have to win this war. We just want to cut down on some of this excess population... Now look. Just start up a draft; draft as many of those people as you can. We'll call up every last youngster we can get our hands on, hand 'em some speed, give 'em an hour or two to learn how to use an automatic riffle and send 'em on their way... Libya? El Salvador? How 'bout Northern Ireland? Or a 'moderately repressive regime' in South America? We'll just cook up a good Soviet threat story in the Middle East - we need that oil... We had Libya all ready to go and Colonel Khadafy's hit squad didn't even show up. I tell ya... that man is unreliable. The Kremlin had their fingers on the button just like we did for that one... Now just think for a minute - we can make this war so big - so BIG... The more people we kill in this war, the more the economy will prosper... We can get rid of practically everybody on your dole queues if we plan this right. Take every loafer on welfare right off our computer rolls... Now don't worry about those demonstrators - just pump up your drug supply. So many people have hooked themselves on heroin and amphetamines since we took over, it's just like Vietnam. We had everybody so busy with LSD they never got too strong. Kept the war functioning just fine... It's easy. We've got our college kids so interested in beer they don't even care if we start manufacturing germ bombs again. Put a nuclear stockpile in their back yard, they wouldn't even know what it looked like... So how 'bout it? Look - war is money. The arms manufacturers tell me unless we get our bomb factories up to full production the whole economy is going to collapse... The Soviets are in the same boat. We all agree the time has come for the big one, so whadya say?!?... That's excellent. We knew you'd agree... the companies will be very pleased. 

The Prey

You're from out of town
I can tell that by your shoes
Flew in for the convention
Getting tipsy in a bar
You're leaving pretty late
Gotta get up in the morning
Thinking she's just too expensive
And you know you're...
Probably...
Right
There's no one on the streets
And you can't find your hotel
You walk a little faster - someone's following you
The wallet-size bulge
In you double-knit butt
Has money for me
And maybe credit cards
You dart around the next corner
You can't look around
Quick now, fish for the keys for the door
You don't even know where you are
You walk a little faster
I walk a little faster
Sensing that I sense you
Now there's no escape
I can almost taste your dandruff
As I reach out for your face - and I strike! 

Buzzbomb From Pasadena

Buzzbomb buzzbomb macho-mobile
The road's my slave, that's how I feel
I cruise alone, I cruise real far
Shoo young punk!
I love my car Cross Nevada at 110
Highway 50 and there's nobody there
Sign says, 'Next sign 30 miles!'...
My pension comes
Each penny saves buys more escape from home
I'd rather carouse around all day
Than move into a home
Plow through rest area San-o-Lets
Splat goes the lonely salesman
Still wanking in the men's room...
Buzzbomb buzzbomb tape up loud
Lawrence Welk cranked up to 10
Faster faster in my car
Buzzbomb is my pride and joy
King of the trailer court
Waiting for a nice young man
Who'll love me for my car
Who tells me why I'm cool
Tells me just what I like
When I pretend he's here
Shred through Palm Springs across the golf course
Cops 'round here scratching their heads
Flashing sirens, State patrol... uh oh
They're scuffing up the side of my car
They're shooting out my tires
This ain't no way to go to heaven
Buzzbomb cornered at the 7-11 

Night Of The Living Rednecks

HUGE thanks to Leland Gaunt for this one
"Ray's guitar broke.  Now we wanna play rawhide, we'll play anything.
We'll play the theme from the Dinah Shore Show. Who wants to be Dinah
Shore?  Who's alter-ego is Dinah Shore?  Oh, his fist didn't go up so
quickly this time!  Yawn... yawn... yawn... Put them headphones on, it's
bee-bop time.  I wanna tell you a story, about the last time I was in
Portland.  The night before we played at the Long Goodbye, I was walkin'
on the street about 10:30 at night, a lot of people go to bed around here
at 10:30 at night, and well, I was walkin' along, when suddenly these
jocks in this bright blue pickup drove up.  It had KC lights, tractor
tires, everything but the CB.  It was a life-sized Hot Wheels car for
some dumb rich kid, right?  Well, they drove up to me, and they yelled
what drunk dumb rich kids usually yell, 'Hey faggot!' and showered me
with some water.  So, I stood there thinking, what a bunch of fuckheads,
and picked up a rock.  Now, I waited, and walked down about a block to
where the Kentucky Fried Chicken is, on Burnside, and sure enough, they
drove around again.  They said, 'Hey, faggot, where's the nearest
McDonald's?'  I said 'I don't know,' and they squirted me again.  So I
THREW THE ROCK! and put a nice-sized dent in their giant Hot Wheels car.
 They screeched to a halt in the parking lot of some dept. store whose
name I don't remember, it's up the street from Fred Meyer's.  And they
got out there clubs, and they ran after me yelling 'We're gonna kill you,
goddam faggot, we're gonna kill you, motherfucker.'  So I got in the
phonebooth by the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside, held my legs
straight out, like this, so they couldn't open the door to the
phonebooth.  So they began charging the phonebooth, beating on it with
their clubs yelling 'We're gonna kill you, motherfucker, we're gonna kill
you, goddam faggot'.  I just looked at them.  So, there was a crowd
gathering by this time, and these kids were standing nearby, and they
said 'Oh, look at him, he's insane.'  I thought, aha, here's my way out,
I yelled at them, 'take me to a mental hospital right away, I wanna be
put away, please put me away, c'mon call the cops and put me away.
Please put me away now!'  They said, 'Alright, faggot, we're callin' the
police.'  So they called the police, the cop comes out and I go 'Ah, my
savior, and away from these jocks.'  He opens up the door.  'Get outta
there, you!'  He throws me up against the car, frisks me, shoves me in
the back.  Then, he goes over to the jocks.  'Now what happend here?
Looks like we're gonna have to take him to jail, but, we gotta have the
full story first.'  So, the jocks, who had an ace in the hole, ace in the
hole-take it down on the bass, little bit down on the bass, yeah- ace in
the hole, they go 'Well goddam, this motherfucker put a dent in my truck,
this 9,000 (?90,000?) dollar truck, right?  So I got my club, I went out
and I wanted to kill him.  I wanna kill him, let me kill him, goddamit,
let me kill him!  So the cop made them go home, and he drove me home, and
he confiscated their club and my rock as further evidence.  And I
thought, So this is Oregon, huh?  Tolerant Oregon.  Ray, are you done
with your guitar, yet?  He isn't done yet.  So what else do you wanna
hear, I'm outta stories.  That's a true story too, just ask..."