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Super Brain

by Ben Sommer

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1.
04:03
2.
3.
02:21
4.
01:01
5.
00:54
6.
01:10
7.
02:12
8.
04:20
9.
10.
11.
12.

credits

released 04 November 2011

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Track Name: Young Turks
YOUNG TURKS

young turks
forty-odd feet
of kerosine fuel
fires the hot young turks

muscled athletes
jocked up on caffeine
fires the well-hung jerks

pansy wholewheat
a pacifists treat
fires the fat houseworker

my turk of a mule
packing coca paste
could not equel
the yule log fuel fire
of the hot young turks

young turks
stank like camels
hung like chinchillas
burly young gorillas
hair-net latinos
drag racing their camaros

[guitar solo]

young turks
forty-odd feet
of kerosine fuel
fires the hot young turks

courtly quad teats
of seventeen school
girls in their taut clung shirts

pussy-wipped pete
raised on wolverine stool
sired in a low-slung yurt

swarthy vice-squad secretes
nitrosamine drool
fired in the dot com bubble burst

salty cod treats
swimming in the cesspools
expired when caught, hung, and burnt

warty roughshod feet
in mujahedeen school
fundamentalistani turkmenistani

sporty soccer cleat
of propylene ghouls
rikitikitavi

fatty on my feet
stiffy in my bleep
roiling out a burp

printing out a spreadsheet
of philistine boolean
algebra of whatnot and whatnot
Track Name: I Married a Prostitute
I married a prostitute
her name was Roxanne
four feet six inches in high heel boots
with stringy blonde hair
and a health bueareau card

I married a rotweiller
passed off as a whore
on all fours she can dirty my rug
with her foul mood swings
from ingesting the drain-o

poor and watching the talk shows
I married for money
she was born in George the third’s trundle bed
in Carolina
swamp grass and pig pageants

I married beneath me
my ascestors were kings
we carried the gold standard from Kiev
enslaving the gypsies
breeding fleas in our beards
Track Name: Baby Mother
baby mother
she cries and blubbers
like Sally Struthers
if I had my druthers
I'd ditch my baby mother

she was a royal baby
raised by Esterhazys' butler
and Sound Of Music nanny
with manners to make her pious
für Mütterland Öesterreich

and now she is a mother
a gap-toothed welfare sucker
she squirts them out by the hour
and hits me up for cash at Christmas
here son, meet your mother
Track Name: Consumerism
CONSUMERISM

shopping
Track Name: Militarism
MILITARISM

don’t mess with Texas
Track Name: Cadaverism
CADAVERISM

When you get crazy ideas in your head
You must pulverize your head until it bleeds
Throbs and then you will have gotten to the
Point of this maniacal hoarse-throated anthem

Die you communist cadaver

With extreme prejudice
I mar the corpses of Kruschev,
Joseph Stalin and Lenin and Trotsky and Hegel
Karl Marx
Track Name: Fist
FIST

fist, the fist, the fist
glorious fist
this fist, my fist
mountains of mist
conceal what I'm holding in my fist

a gift, for you
you're catching the drift
a fist, for you
no whipping boy, me
I ball up my fist
and bust your lip
that lip, your lip

I can't explain
how my train of thoughts
deteriorates into hate
and I want to say:
"hey, come my way"
when I really mean:
"you sucker, come get puckered"
cause here comes your friend, fist

fist, the fist, the fist
I gave you the gist
my story is this:
the grist for this mill
is bloodied and scabbed,
a face full of fist, of fist, yeah

the fist, ‘cest moi’, its me
I’m wrapped around with fingers
eine Fause ist
eine Klugel des Fleisches
brütend in eine ‘pirouet’

I can’t explain… (etc.)

that’s it, you mother, kapeesh?
go sleep with the fish
and dream of my fist
fist, and a fist, and a fist up your ass!
Track Name: De Profundis
DE PROFUNDIS

De profundis clamavi ad te
Track Name: Count To Twelve
Count To Twelve

One is forward
Two is backward
Three is terrible
It is

Two is three three loops is
Loops forward is
A forward loop

Three rests on a bully's laurel
I was four five was a
Trip stopped shitting my pants
Six spicy apple sauce for everyone

Seven good food is scarce
The cue stretching for miles
Loops is loops forward is a forward loop

Eight is forward
Nine is forwards
Ten an illustrious list
Of barricade breakers

Eleven her earnest words
Festering in my lap twelve
A simple count again
Track Name: Deo Gracias Anglia
DEO GRACIAS ANGLIA

Owre kynge went forth to Nor-man-dy
With grace and myght of chy-val-ry;
Ther God for hym wrought merv-'lus-ly,
where-fore Eng-londe may calle and cry:
Deo gracias Anglia

Deo gracias Anglia
Redde pro victoria

He sette a sege, for soothe for say,
To Har-flu toune with ry'l a-ray
That toun he wan and made a-fray
That Fraunce shal rywe til Domes-day;
Deo gracias Anglia

Now gra-cious God he keep oure kynge,
His pe-ple and alle his wel-wyll-ynge,
Yes give hym goode lyfe and gode end-yng;
That we with merth mow save-ly synge:
Deo gracias Anglia