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SONG LYRICS

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I wake up and I am tired so I lie in bed and stretch cause I don’t wanna rush this day along. I breathe deeply as I lie there, sleep still holds me on the mattress, my eyes struggle as I try to start my day.

I sit up but I sit crooked, I sit crooked on the edge of the bed that holds the warmth from where I slept. I stumble out of focus to the bathroom where I lean before the toilet that I’ll clean when I’m awake.

I mutter neath the water as I sputter and I wonder how I got up outa bed and in the shower. Back in bed I end up lying, let my blankets do the drying, I lie naked, I lie sleeping…once again…

Oh, I just wanna sleep forever. Yes, I just wanna sleep forever. Wake me when it’s time to die.

Do you love me? Yes I love you. Can you show me? Yes I can but will you show me in a way that I’ll believe? I’ve been hurt and I’ve been loved but I don’t need that anymore. All I need is what I’ve got and nothing else.

I’m too dumb for you to fool me. I’m too old to play your games. If you wanna lie beside me that’s your choice. But I warn you not to touch me, there’s a chance that you might wake me and I’d rather be alone inside my head.

Oh I just wanna sleep forever. Yes I just wanna sleep forever. Wake me when it’s time to die.

I’m awake now and I’m listening to the voice inside my head that says I’ve gotta make the most of every day. So I stand before the mirror and I note my imperfections. I get dressed, I comb my hair – I’m out the door.

A couple cappuccinos and an hour in the sunshine and I’ve finally grown accustomed to today. It’s too late to go to sleep I’ll have to wait to live the dream and the reaper makes me live another day.

Oh I just wanna sleep forever. Yes I just wanna live forever. Wake me when it’s time to die.

Back in bed I end up lying, let my blankets do the drying, I lie naked, I lie sleeping…once again…

Yes, I just wanna sleep… forever. Yes, I just wanna sleep… forever. Yes, I just wanna sleep forever…

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

What’s your favorite #? What’s your favorite #? What’s your favorite #? What’s your favorite #, baby?

Now let me tell you ‘bout the future and where it all begun and why you ladies all agree your favorite number’s number one. You can call me johnny solo, Mr. single, Kid Alone. But if you really wanna call me, then call me on the phone.

Ring a ling a ling a, a ring a ding a ling… Ring a ling a ling a, a ding a ling…

Yo my homeies call me monkey and my mommy calls me ken, and if you wanna be my barbie then you gotta be a ten. I like to take my pick from a room full of strangers. I’m a little cassanova and a lotta lone ranger.

I’m a steamin’ locomotion of self promotion. I’m causin’ a commotion. Don’t get emotional. I make the motion of the big bad ocean. I’m a master of devotion, a love potion. Hand me the lotion, cause monkey’s got a notion.

Yo I got no money, you wanna play you gotta pay. I’m lover not a loser and I mean what I say. You’re my sugar-baby and there ain’t no exceptions. You buy the food and I’ll pop for contraception.

Hey now it’s time to wake up! Cock-a-doodle-doodle doo. What’s twice as good as 1? That’s right, it’s me, I’m #2. You can call me johnny duo, Mr. Double, Kid Romance. But rest assured, I want you for your brains and not what’s in your pants.

Want you for your brains, yeah right! Not what’s in your pants, yeah right!

Cause I’m hetero romeo a frickin’ homeo-pathic remedy for livin’ in the single life. With this ring I thee wed, and then we go to bed, knockin’ up the booty as husband and wife. I’m home honey smooch-smooch and then I pet the pooch. Hoochy-coochy coo. When’s the baby due?

Sure I’m full of myself and baby you can be too. All it takes is a yes and all your dreams’ll come true so vote for me and it’ll set the mood. You sit and watch while I dance in the nude. BARF!

No I ain’t no boobalito and no chimpanzee wasn’t born on a mountaintop in Tennessee, but I know a little bit about the birds and the bees. Give it up, nice ta meet ya, say hello to #3.

You can call me johnny triples, Mr. Trio, Kid Jerk. You might recognize me from the Poor Man’s Cirque. But enough let’s get in bed and go a little BeZerk. Lie down, start smilin’ cause it’s time to get to work.

HARD-HAT, HARD-HAT. Time to get to work. HARD-HAT, HARD-HAT. Don’t forget the condom.

I reach downtown and I touch your knees cause it’s time to give ya the third degree. Girl, I aim to please and I guarantee to bring on a little atomic ecstasy.

I’m a mumbler and grumbler and a big old bad cucumber. I’m a juggler and a rumbler and I like to bring the lumberrrrr – JACK!

When you add it up. There’s a number in your head. It’s 1 to 3 and I bet it’s me. When you add it up.

Yo baby! I get you worked up good and you’re screamin’ all atonal and your motor’s stuck in 5th and you’re gettin’ all hormonal, cause you’re moanin’ and you’re breathin’ and the fire in you is seethin’ and it’s me that you be needin’ and you’re itchin’ to be dancin’ with the master of romancin’ and I’m grindin’ and we’re groovin’ and your control that’s what you’re losin’ and your body starts a shakin’ and you’re the eggs to my bacon and we’re makin’ makin’ makin’ makin’ IT! OOOHHHHH! What’s your favrit # baby?

Girl you take control, you know it’s time, the time is now, you wanna tie me to the bed and then you’ll show me show me how, you want it done, you want it now, you got that look in your eyes… say baby Shhh… Ohhh Say baby, Shhh… Oooohhhh… Girl you take control, you know it’s time, the time is now, you wanna tie me to the bed and then you’ll show me show me how, you want it done…you want it done….to you. What’s your favrit # baby?

I lie you down in a bed full of roses then we wrestle and we fight and give each other bloody noses, I like it when you bite me, but I hate it when you chew, cause it means you’re leavin’ holes and you’re not supposed to. We sweat and we spit and you scratch up my back and in the middle of a sex-inflicted heart attack, you stand up on my face and you cannonball my sack. Excruciating pain is an aphrodesiac? What’s your favrit # baby?

When you add it up. There’s a number in your head. It’s 1 to 3 and I bet it’s me. When you add it up.

Now #2 he sides with #1 when arguin’ with 3 cause see yo 1 + 2 is 3 all right and 3 on 3 is right, but see if 2 agreed with 3 you see then 2 + 3 is 5! and 5 on 1 I’m sad to say is just not right. Word 6! Hi mom.

When you add it up. There’s a number in your head. It’s 1 to 3 and I bet it’s me. When you add it up.

I’m a one way street. I’m a one trick pony. I’m a big hunk a cheese and you’re my macaroni. I ain’t Oscar Mayer, but I’ll give you my baloney.

It’s all for one and all for me. Sex and lovin’ is a two way street. I ain’t Oscar Mayer, but I’ll give you my meat.

Now it’s time to pick and it’s time to pick one. Now it’s time to choose and I know you’ll choose two. I ain’t Oscar Mayer, but I’ll give you my baloney.

When you add it up. There’s a number in your head. It’s 1 to 3 and I bet it’s me. When you add it up.

Everybody say 1! Give it up for 2! Let me hear you say 3! What’s your favrit’ # baby?

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

Whatever happened to the chain saw juggler? He was a good friend of mine. And how did you learn to kiss like that? Said the man to his German Shepard.

It’s not polite to talk when your mouth is full of big bumble bees. But it’s quite ok to love your mom… as long as you don’t get her pregnant…

La, la ….etc. There’s something wrong with this song…

Cross my heart? Yes! Stick a finger in my eye? No. But, WIFE I’m telling the truth. I slept with your sister, your mom and your dad and the 2nd best sex was you!

Rub a dub 3 men in a tub… need I say more… And Jack Sprat could eat no fat… So he divorced her….

I know that there’s something wrong with this song. I just don’t know what it could be. Yes, I know that there’s something wrong with this song. I just don’t know what it could be.

Where were we? Oh yeah, right… Meanwhile…

Whatever happened to the chain saw juggler? He was a good friend of mine. I heard he died, but nobody cried, instead they all chopped off their arms.

Oh well…When in Rome….

Non compos mentis persona non grata in vino veritas ad hoc. E Plurbis Unum… If To Err is Human, then boy am I glad WE’RE in charge!

A Buddhist, a Muslim, a nun and a Jew were stuck in a hot air balloon. It suddenly popped and though they prayed as it dropped. It proves that God hates us all!

La, la ….etc. There’s something wrong with this song…

And as the wise man stood atop the mountain, naked and disgusting and naked he defiantly shouted down to the angry villagers! He said, “You may have won the battle, but I’m out of ammunition! He said, “Life isn’t a bowl of cherries! It’s… it’s… ok, maybe it IS!” He said, “It’s not the size that counts, it’s the woman that counts the size!” He said, “You can’t sue yourself for writing an unauthorized autobiography!” He said, “If at first you don’t succeed… you’re a God-damned loser!” He said, “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s whether I win or lose! He said, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater…unless it’s floating face-down.” He said, “If you can’t beat ‘em, let ME beat ‘em!” He said, “You can tell a lot about a man by how he strangles you.” And lastly he said, “Fight for Peace!” “Make love not war! ….Unless you love to kill!” And as they stormed the mountain and kicked him to death he said one more thing, he said, “Ow, that hurts, stop, ow, damn, shit! Help! Help!” And as the Martian sat and waved from the driver’s seat window of his hovering Martian Space ship he offered these parting words of advice, he said: “Do yourself a favor! And Stop this God-damned SONG!”  But we couldn’t cause we still didn’t know…

Whatever happened to the chainsaw juggler? He was a good friend of mine. I heard he died, but nobody cried, instead the all chopped off their arms. Well that sure makes sense, he was loved by his fans, but tell me how did he die? Nobody knows, they found him alone. All bloody with his arms by his side.

I know that there’s something wrong with this song. I just don’t know what it could be. La, la ….etc. There’s something wrong with this… SOMETHING wrong with this… SOMETHING wrong with this… SOMETHING wrong with this… song.

Words by Matt Kaminsky & Stefan Marks.  Music by Matt Kaminsky.

She was a dame who wore red. She was flashy, Baby. Sex was a game that played and won. I couldn’t keep my eyes of her body, buddy. I just wish she’d take a look at me for a change.

I can spot you with precision anywhere that you might be. I’m a guy with X-ray vision. You can hide, but I still see your nooks and your crannies, your newly showered fannies, your 18-year-old Swedish nannies, too. I got my eye on you.

She was a dame who wore red. She was flashy, Baby. Sex was a game that played and won. I couldn’t keep my eyes of her body, buddy. I just wish she’d take a look at me for a change.

I don’t have to hide in bathrooms to get a glimpse of what you got. I can watch you in the open without fear of being caught. Your curves and your swerves, how they help to calm my nerves. Forgive me, what’s a boy supposed to do? I got my eye on you.

When we talk, don’t be surprised if I don’t look into your eyes. If I choke or fail to breathe it’s ’cause I see what’s underneath.

I don’t have to go to Vegas for a naked girly bar. Every day’s a Playboy movie.  Every day a different star. Judge me if you will.  I admit that it’s a thrill. Am I guilty for indulging as men do? I got my eye on you. I got my eye on you. I got my eye on you.

She was a dame who wore red. She was flashy, Baby. Sex was a game that played and won. I couldn’t keep my eyes of her body, buddy. I just wish she’d take a look at him for a change. Look at him.

I got my eye on you.

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

It doesn’t matter what you say.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I went to school — been out for a while now I walk through life with a big dumb smile. I know a lot, but it’s all old news, so the jokes on me – Please point and laugh.

in the mind in the brain in the place where I sit and I think and my brain cells die. I try to think but I don’t know how so I let it all out with a big dumb sigh…

I didn’t know I’d be held accountable for everything I did before I met you. If I’d known, I’d have done more wrong cause it doesn’t matter now and I might as well of had fun.

Time drags but they say it’s gonna fly as i try to move on, as i try to get by. They talk, but nobody knows and although they say it will, it’ll never be all right…

But at least I have our memories… I hope to reminisce one day. But I don’t know where you went to and I did not get a chance to say goodbye to you.

Iiiiiiiii Iiiiiiiii

Gotta know where you gonna go and what you’re gonna do – better think fast. Everyday flies by and then you’re life becomes the past – what happened? How the hell did I become the parents to my kids? – when did I stop growing?

Gotta choice, gotta choose, hear the voice, don’t lose your sense of humor. Sunrise, sunset, better fret, did you get it all done? – cause you can’t out-run the sun. Hurry up, slow down, wake up cause it’s time to go to sleep better luck in the next life.

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na

Na na na na na na na na na na nowww

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na

Na na na na na na na na na na now now now now now now nowwwww

Iiiiiiiii Iiiiiiiii

Gotta know where you gonna go and what you’re gonna do – better think fast. Everyday flies by and then you’re life becomes the past – what happened? How the hell did I become the parents to my kids? – when did I stop growing?

Gotta choice, gotta choose, hear the voice, don’t lose your sense of humor. Sunrise, sunset, better fret, did you get it all done? – cause you can’t out-run the sun. Hurry up, slow down, wake up cause it’s time to go to sleep better luck in the next life… Better luck in the next life…

Iiiiiiiii Iiiiiiiii

Please God kill us all. Flood the world and soak the ball… Start Fresh, clean the slate – it’s time to underpopulate. In the time in the clock in the face in the hands of the God that we hope to meet… we live a life and stumble blind and we pray in the end that we’ll finally see…today’ll be yesterday tomorrow, just be patient and you’ll see. Focus on the time you think you have… cause you will not get a chance to say good bye to her.

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

Words & Music by Brett Pearsons

Now if Gentleman A is traveling by aeroplane at 500 miles an hour going from LAX to Tulsa, Oklahoma
And if Woman B is traveling by a train
At 89 miles an hour going from NYCGC to Tulsa, OK
So if Gentleman A is leaving LA at 4pm pt
Approximately 44 hours before Woman B is leaving New York

Well then when will Gentleman A and Woman B meet?
I hope the answer is TRU LUV
If not X divided by Y take away Z
Will be exactly what I feel like a Zero
I don’t know what the heck is an X anywhy?
Besides a boy or girl who tells you bye bye bye
Oh oh oh. Oh oh oh

Now seconds feel like minutes feel like hours feel like days

Back to work
Now Delta s divided by Delta t (not the airline)
Subtract velocity and take the whole thing and divide it again by time
Now the answer you get from all this mess is acceleration
Don’t ask me how that is cause all these Goddamned physics are making me feel sick
But you see, A and B made a really big deal to meet half way across
The 48 United States to test the theory of mathematical love

When will Gentleman A and Woman B meet?
I hope the answer is TRU LUV
If not Force divided by Mass take away Small a
Will be exactly what I feel like a big, fat Zero
I don’t know what the heck is an X without an O
Besides a kiss or hug but not both
Oh oh oh. X X X

Now the Xs and the Ys and the Zs and the Vs fight the Cosines and the Sines and the Tangents and Degrees what’s the Coefficient of the non-existent non-entity?
(I’m in love with Woman B)

Will then when will Gentleman A and Woman B meet?
I hope the answer is TRU LUV
If not X divided by Y take away Z
Will be exactly what I feel like a Zero
I don’t know what the heck is an X anywhy?
Besides a boy or girl who tells you bye bye bye

When will Gentleman A and Woman B meet?

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I Wanna Be Someone Who Gives A Damn. Someone who cares what he does while he’s here. And— I Wanna Meet Someone Who Gives A Damn. Someone who cares what she does while she’s here.

There are things that I must say. There are things that I must do. Before I go. Before I’m gone.

And while I’m here. I’m gonna try to make some thing of my life. Before I go. Before I’m gone.

Because that crazy God he went and left me. All alone in world without directions. He took the things I loved and he left the things I hate.But, I’m on my way. Cause…

There are things that I must say. There are things that I must do. Before I go. Before I’m gone.

And while I’m herrrrrrrre. I’m gonna try to make some thing of my life. Before I go. Before I’m gone.

Because that crazy God he went and left me. All alone in world without directions. He took the things I loved and he left the things I hate. But, I’m on my way. Cause…

I Wanna Be Someone Who Gives A Damn. Someone who cares what he does while he’s here. And— I Wanna Meet Someone Who Gives A Damn. Someone who cares what she does while she’s here.

There are things that I must say. There are things that I must do. Before I go. Before I’m gone. Before I go. Before I’m gone. Before I go. Before I’m gone.

Words & Music by Matt Kaminsky

I am a man and I have my needs, yet firmly I stand though you’re beggin’, you’re beggin’, you’re begin’ for me to hold you. I can’t control you. But if push comes to shove I think I’d have to be drunk to make love to you.

I’m cold as ice and you hold a flame, but my body thinks twice before giving in and melting away. I told you I can’t control you. Yes you think that I’m tough. But I think I’d have to be drunk to make love to you.

You ask me, “Am I able?” I am very, very capable of doing what you want me to do. Oh, I’m not naive. I refuse to believe that I am the only one.

But I’m just a man and I have my needs. I take what I can ’cause there’s only so long without some release from tension. I shouldn’t mention that enough is enough. Still I think I’d have to be drunk to make love to you. Enough is enough is enough. It’s time to make love to you.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

I am sad that I must say good-bye to you. Another day has passed and yet I feel I did not do the things you asked me to. So try I must to do my best, for I must pass the final test. And if I win we’ll celebrate by being anti-celibate.

Oh please LET ME MAKE YOU SWEAT, PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU MOAN! PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU smile in BED! I’m sorry, that was inappropriate…

I love you and you love you and one day I hope you’ll love me, but til that day I realize that I can’t go between your thighs. I’m sorry that I sung that line. I know you don’t like when I say the word thighs especially your thighs it’s just I’m really kinda curious.

I love walking hand in hand, I just wish that as a man I could bite you on the neck and leave hickeys on your back. Kiss you, bite you, pull your hair, see you in no underwear. Grab your body, pull you close, squeeze your butt and lick your nose.

Please LET ME MAKE YOU SWEAT, PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU MOAN! PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU smile in BED! I know I did it again, I promise, just give me one more chance sweet heart. I’m thinking of a cold shower. I’m thinking of an ice cold shower. Brr… See. All gone.

I respect you and I hope that one day I’ll learn to cope with the choices that you’ve made and your sexual barricades. Boy I really like to talk while we walk and walk and walk, but one day I’d like to run just let loose and have some fun. Party dance and drink too much, sit too close and start to touch. Kiss and kiss and breathe real hard lose the brain and find the heart. Close our eyes and disappear, find the nerve and lose the fear. What’s so wrong with loving you and showing you a thing or two?

I wanna stand and drop my pants and do a sexy naked dance. I wanna growl and pose and flex and add an X to triple X. I am Tarzan you are Jane and now it’s time to NOT abstain. You are woman hear me roar – it’s me knocking at your door. Knock knock knock I’m coming in, with a huff and a puff on your chinny chin chin. Fee fi foe and a bottle of rum, I’m gonna make yer body go numb. Hey diddle said the cat to fiddle, makin’ your skin hot as a griddle. I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU!!!! PLEASE LET ME HAVE SEX WITH YOU!!!!

Oh please LET ME MAKE YOU SWEAT, PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU MOAN! PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU smile in BED!

Oh please LET ME MAKE YOU SWEAT, PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU MOAN! PLEASE LET ME MAKE YOU smile in BED!

And that was my FINAL damn offer.

Words & Music by Ken Weiler

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

Back in the stone age when man was a monkey he dreamed one day that he’d ride a donkey across the world from country to country, evolving all the way…

He spent his days lookin’ for food. Huntin’ through the bushes all hairy and nude. Killin’ and spearin’ and actin’ real rude, but evolving all the way… Cause—

He is the future of man! He’ll do whatever he can to procreate and to civilize the rest of the world, one at a time…

But this monkey man he needs a lady monkey to be his partner and his friend. And he must treat her well and raise a monkey family to make a link to modern man.

So he stood straight and he chose his mate but she said no and sent him on his way. So he went back home and alone in his cave… well, he didn’t make a child.

He got scared as he realized that he needed a baby before he died or this’d be it and although God’d tried! The end of modern life. Cause—

He is the future of man! He’ll do whatever he can to procreate and to civilize the rest of the world, one at a time…

For even if he’s the chosen one he needs a chosen two to help him make the chosen three or else there’ll never be a four.

So the monkey man he swallowed his pride and he lowered his standards for his monkey bride. He searched all day and he searched all night lookin’ for a girl to take a donkey ride.

He finally found one and he said she’ll do and she nodded her head and grunted I do too.  And on that blessed day the monkeys were wed and then they ran back to his cave and got into bed.

Back in the stone age when man was a monkey he dreamed one day that he’d ride a donkey across the world from country to country evolving all the way…

He spent his days lookin’ for food. Huntin’ through the bushes all hairy and nude. But now he’s got a girl and a new attitude – he’s evolving all the way… cause—

He is the future of man! He’ll do whatever he can to procreate and to civilize the rest of the world, one at a time… To fill up the world, one at a time.. To make a buncha monkeys, one at a time…

Words & Music by Brett Pearsons

He lifted up his body and he walked towards her. She lifted up herself and walked away. He looked up and he noticed and he walked towards her. And she walked away from where they were. So he sat down and she walked away.

Cause she walks when he walks her way. And when he stops she stops and smiles. And when he runs she runs away. And when he runs the other way she does too, but she don’t need to run away.

So he chased her one last time and she didn’t even look. To see he was struck down by the bus she took. No, she continued to walk from the spot where he lay. No, she didn’t even go to his funeral.

Cause she walks when he walks her way. And when he stops he stops and smiles. And when he runs she runs away. And when he runs the other way she does too. But she don’t need to run away.

So he rose from the grave and she paused a sec. While he walked away from the dead. So she slowed her walk and the zombie man
came to her but she didn’t walk away. And when they held they were heard to say. And when they held they were heard to say. And when they held they were heard to say…

Cause she walks when he walks her way. And when he stops she stops and smiles. And when he runs she runs away. And when he runs the other way she does too, but she don’t need to run away.

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

Why? How? Who? Cares…

Why do you look the way you do? Why do you look at me that way? Why did you cut your hair? I liked it more the other way… Why do you ask me how I am? Why should I know how I am? Why don’t you tell me how you are? Cause I already know…

Why did you leave me? Why didn’t I leave? Why did we stay together all of those years? Why did we run out of nice things to say? Why? How? Who? Cares…

How come we met? How come we smiled? How come we laughed and cried and hugged? How come we kissed and made some love that couldn’t stand the sight of us…

How come we cared? How come we worked so hard to pay the bills we made… How come we tried and tried and tried but in the end we failed and failed and failed and failed and failed and failed and failed and failed?

Answer me because I’ve got more questions than I’ll ever answer I can’t figure out the truth.

Why? Who really knows? Who really cares? Who really wants? Who really needs? Who really feels? Who really lives? Who really bleeds?

Who runs the world? Who makes them run? Who gave them legs? Who gave them brains to make the legs do all that running?

Who knows the meaning of his life? Who’s smart enough to keep his wife from fleeing?

Answer me because I’ve got more questions than I’ll ever answer I can’t figure out the truth. Answer me because I’ve got more questions than I’ll ever answer I can’t figure out the truth.

Why? How? Who? Cares…

Words & Music by Geoff Dunbar

I’m sitting in my grandma’s rocking chair. Thinking ‘bout the time I’ve spent and how I got no-where. I’ve had a few old ladies, call me now and then. But all I really needed was a friend.

‘Cause I’m looking for a girl to call my own. Not someone who’s always on the phone. O’ Lord, please he’p me, I’m in dire need. Gotta have a girl that I can squeeze.

I’m sitting in my grandpa’s Chevrolet. Singing to myself about the passing of a day. I go by the places where she and I had been. But all I really need is just a friend.

‘Cause I’m looking for a girl to call my own. Not someone who’s always on the phone. O’ Lord, please he’p me, I’m in dire need. Gotta have something that I can squeeze.

There is something missing from my lonely life. Thought I loved a lady, thought I had a wife. Never have I been so sad, never so alone. Looks like it’s time to go back home.

‘Cause I’m looking for a girl to call my own. Not someone who’s always on the phone. O’ Lord, please he’p me, I’m in dire need.Gotta have a girl that I can… Gotta have a girl that I can… Gotta have a girl that I can Squeeeeeeeeeeeze!

Words & Music by Stefan Marks

Oh…

Who’s making these horrible movies that they show on the big movie screens? They chase and they crash and they dumb it all up and I sit and I watch the credits. I watch to see who played that part so badly. I wonder why I can’t be a movie star too. I sometimes audition for low budget equity waiver. I just want a chance to prove that I can suck too.

OH…Who’s making these horrible movies that they show on the big movie screens? They charge more and more but they give less and less and I sit with my date and I suffer. Why must I watch Battlefield Earth?

The script was written in crayon… the script was written in crayon… the script was written in crayon… the script was written in crayon…

FADE IN: INT. Movie studio. Big important meeting with big important people. We just optioned this original-adaptation, totally independent, big- studio, high concept, low budget art house spec script. Brand new. Been in development for 25 years. Working title is “Kill me Now”. I just read the 1st draft treatment and it’s not very good, but we can fix it in post. It’s real gen-x and noisy with all that wacky surround sound and the THX Dolby and I must say, I see several sequels and at least 1 or two prequels. The dope sheet on this baby got it the green light. All the trades smell a bidding war. Jump Cut to the festivals, ok? Two words: Cha Ching.

Our best boy wrote the script, he’s a 20 year old former key grip and he used to work on the casting couch, so he’s got ancillary rights and wants contingent compensation on the back-end. (WINK.) Picture this: Extreme Close-up of some famous actor, ad-libbing. We shoot it guerrilla, hand- held, cinema Verite, no protagonist, no antagonist, no character arcs, no plot, no subplots, no B story, no denouement: just avant garde montages of a beautiful, emaciated 16 year old supporting cast and we fire off a few squibs in the car chase scenes. Did somebody say McDonald’s? OK?

We split the merchandising with a fast-food joint and they pass off our crappy worthless toys for 99 cents with each combo, plus we get to advertise for free on the soda cups. Which brings us to the Love scene – hire a pair of great boobs for the body double, stand above on the bed and shoot it all POV and OTS in stop motion steadicam. When we sell the foreign distribution we can dump everything on D1, dub it in German, make it letterbox, add sub-titles and hock a DVD of the frickin’ director’s cut.

The cast is willing to work for scale cause we pitched it as an “Oscar contender” and most of them are stupid, desperate has-beens anyway. The directors’ willing to work for deferred compensation, but I don’t think we need a director on this one, it pretty much “directs itself.” We’ll just send a PA up to Canada to shoot the principal photography on a Sony digacam.

I’ve got an idea for a movie. All it needs is a bankable cast. It’ll open up labor day weekend and we’ll sit and cut coke on the glass.

We can save money on sound too, make it a silent film, pretend we did it on purpose who cares? Let’s go black and white. Shoot the fight scenes in claymation. It doesn’t matter. We can do the post production in a slave labor camp on a video toaster in Taiwan. What the hell?

The MPAA wants to give us an NC-17 which is the kiss of frickin’ death. They’ll only give us the “R” if we cut out some of the decapitations.

I say we storyboard the trailer. Shoot it BEFORE we make the film, see how it plays in a test market, make it kinda MTV, think Dawson’s Creek, real young and anamorphic, no old people, slap the clapstick, soft light the depth of field, put some nose grease on the diopter, sync it, rack focus, splice the iris, hire a gaffer, orange stick most of the M.O.S., sprocket a blue filter, tinker with the F-Stop, rotoscope the wet gates, bootleg a workprint and most important, kiss the studio’s ass and hope they like it.

Zoom in, zoom out, ADR, add the Foley, Gobo the bolex, load the mags, pan and scan, sweeten the dailies, sandbag the licensing and get this baby in the can. We’ll get Elton John to barf out the soundtrack, package the whole thing pro rata, and most important kiss the studio’s ass and pray they like it. If it sucks, we cut our throats, call it a life and it goes direct to video. No big deal.

Ohh…

Who’s making these horrible movies that they show on the big movie screens? They chase and they crash and they dumb it all upand I sit and I watch the credits. I watch to see who played that part so badly. I wonder why I can’t be a movie star too. I sometimes audition for low budget equity waiver. I just want a chance to prove that I can suck too.

OH…Who’s making these horrible movies that they show on the big movie screens? They should do us a favor and blow out their brainsin the back of their big limousines… in the back of their big limousines… in the back of their big limo—

CUT! IT’S A WRAP! We’re not done.

© 2001 The Four Postmen Music Publishing (ASCAP)

Produced, Recorded, and Engineered by Paul Calder – Evil Troll Records

Cover Art by Ethan Kaminsky – Kaminsky Productions

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