Which one is Steve?
This one is easy – Steve’s the one that isn’t Stupid, so you can probably work it out for yourself by a simple process of elimination. But then, aren’t we all, in a way, Steve?
This one is easy – Steve’s the one that isn’t Stupid, so you can probably work it out for yourself by a simple process of elimination. But then, aren’t we all, in a way, Steve?
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid And Steve don’t book our own gigs. This is because we’re pathologically disorganised and have enough trouble remembering which way round to put our trousers on. If you’d like us to come to your home town to mete out some brassed-up punk justice, then your best bet is to find a venue, tell them how awesome we are and try and get them to book us.
If you’re referring to the King Silver Flair (silver plate, with a gold inside bell), then yes. This was the model trumpet favoured by the legendary Dizzy Gillespie who had his horn customised with the bell bent up because it helped him hear what he was playing better. If you mean the Taylor Renegade, then… oh. How did that happen?
Barbara’s in the cemetery visiting her Dad
She puts flowers on his grave every year
But the walking dead have risen and they smell really bad
Babs runs home in panic locks the doors in fear
But she finds she’s too late and her kids are all dead
And her husband is nowhere to be found
Her undead Dad got there first and cracked open their heads
And all she can hear are contented chewing sounds
She had a lovely family til Daddy ate them
So now her only choice is to decapitate them
Douse them all in petrol send them up in flames, or
Dismember their bodies with a handy chainsaw
No-one’s really sure how they became undeaded
But the only way they’ll stop is if they are beheaded
Do yourself a favour, get your dead cremated
Cos then there is less chance they’ll be reanimated
Barbara calls for help but finds the phonelines are down
She know salvation cannot be far
The TV says survivors should meet outside of town
So all she has to do is get to her car
She cuts through the zombie army and her car starts first try
Puts her foot down and speeds off down the street
And she’s probably have made it if she’d taken the time
To check for monsters lurking in the back seat
They don’t move very fast but it’s hard to stop them
You could shoot them in the face if you can find a shotgun
Douse them all in petrol send them up in flames, or
Dismember their bodies with a handy chainsaw
Be very very careful not to get infected
If you want your head and body to remain connected
Grab yourself an axe and do your best to fell ‘em
Or else they will be dining on your cerebellum
If you can’t beat them
Then you’ll be eaten
You’d better get tough
Cos when there’s no room left in hell
The dead will walk the earth
I can’t help thinking while they’re all on the stage,
There’s no joy in this for them any more.
They’re just grafting for minimum wage -
It’s just a job, they work and they’re bored.
That’s your problem
You don’t sing it out
No-one’s gonna say
Don’t sing it out
A simple paycheck at the end of the day
Enough to keep them toeing the line
Knock the same thing out time after time
As long as it sells well they’ll be fine
That’s your problem
You don’t sing it out
No-one’s gonna say
Don’t sing it out
It’s one for the money
And two is for the money as well,
Three’s for the cash made
When these bland and trendy records sell.
Four’s for good causes
Exploited to get records sold,
Five’s for the silver
And six is for the fucking gold.
What you get is what you pay for.
Comments(2)