(Eating) Humble Pie

from by MeatMachine

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about

duration: 3 min 7 sec
pages of score: 15
recorded at: Lake Warner Studios, Hadley, Massachusetts
mixed at: Lake Warner Studios, Hadley, Massachusetts
mastered at: Broad Marsh River Studios, Wareham, Massachusetts

lyrics

My baby's got pretty good diction,
But she doesn't have much to say.
And because of her affliction
She sleeps most of the day.

Lately she's been getting jealous
About my dark soirees in town.
She tells me I'm over zealous
About wearing my fleshy gown.

Momma, have a heart;
You know that I'm your only man.
And we shall never part,
You've got to understand.

The feds paid me not to farm my land,
So now I'm doin' some odd jobs here and there.
At grave robbing I've tried my hand,
And turns out pretty well I did fare.

But now they're on to my experimentation,
And now I've just become an arrestee.
They never took seriously my adumbration,
But now they know I'm a necro-debauchee.

There'll be no four bit auction for me,
'Cause they done burned up all that's left.
No there ain't nothin' left to see,
[Ex]'cept that old Ford of me they done bereft.

I got acquitted on account of insanity,
And so I'm up here in my padded cell.
Out of mind from most of humanity,
And for them it's probably just as well.

But I don't need myself a head shrinker
When I can shrink heads on my own.
Yep, I sure am a real different thinker,
But I don't need no butyrophenone.

credits

from free music, released July 12, 2002
Geoff Chirgwin, everything (vocals, drums, electric guitar, bass guitar, synthesizer sequencing

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MeatMachine New York, New York

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