It takes a backwash man to sing a backwash song Like a frying pan when the fires gone Driving my pig while the bears taking pictures in the grass In my radio smashed And I like pianos in the evening sun Dragging my heals til my day is done Saturday night in the Captains clothes Tin horns blowing with my jury phros
Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en cerabo Translation: "Im a broken record, I have gum in my brain" I cant believe my way back when My Cadillac pants going much too fast Karaoke weekend at the suicide shack Community service and Im still the mack
Shocked my finger spicing my hand I been spreading disease all across the land Beautiful air-conditioned sitting in the kitchen Wishing I was living like a hit man
Face down in the guarantees Jaundiced marshalls getting busy with ease Because I get down I get down I get down all the way
Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en cerabo
Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders Western Unions of the country westerns Silver foxes looking for romance In the chain smoke Kansas flashdance ass pants
And you got the hotwax residues You never lose in your razor blade shoes Stealing pesos out of my brain Hazard signs down the Alamo lanes Radar systems using the souls You never get caught with the wax so rotten All my days I got the grizzly worms Hijacked flavors that Im flipping like birds
Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en cerabo
"Who are you?" "Im the enchanting wizard of rhythm" "Why did you come here?" "I came here to tell you about the rhythms of the universe"
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