Career

by Bill Baird

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    I will be making 50 copies of the record on cassette. Includes the "Career" booklet, digital download, and all bonus material

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01:04
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about

All songs written, recorded and performed by BB, except "Stingk" sung by Willis McClung and lyrics by BB/McClung. Drums (1,2,3,6,9,10,11) performed by Jordan Johns. Drums (4) by John Kolar. Drums (6) by Willis McClung.

credits

released 01 March 2012

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist
Track Name: Captain Brain
chrome dome styling foam
shiny mental sphere
briney water floating home
pulsing face of fear
oh, captain brain!

mental janitor
can you sweep away my past?
i acted like a moron
i acted like an ass

oh, captain brain!

bleach blonde scrub head
make me look nice when i'm dead
or scrub away my face instead
spinal cord to tie a thread

oh, captain brain!

fair trade ferrari
organic corvette
bill gates wears a sari
the solar-powered jetset

oh, cap and trade!
oh, cap and trade!
Track Name: I Burnt All My Black
stare up above and the sky stares back
I know what I see is only what I lack

but I've burned all my black

Woman she calls
she beckons me
I can't lift my eyes
I cannot see

I've burned all my black
Track Name: Soggy Soul
stare out blank and I wonder why
but my mind just can't replace
what shrunken brown clump of dirt now stands there?
it's my face

i want to live beyond myself but i fall farther in the hole
gotta stick my heart in a microwave and drain this soggy soul
soggy soul

so i drive my car around all day listening to book on tape
"beowulf" by seamus heaney
my mind starts to escape
but in the end i come to myself and i drive into a toll
gotta ditch this car and ditch this dark and thaw my frozen soul

bundled tight and feeling fright
not ready nor steady to go
gotta keep my head in a better place
gotta steady up nice and slow
i know that things could be much better
and i really do want to change
gotta stick my head in a microwave
and thaw away the drain on my soggy soul
Track Name: Stingk
tantric tights
glassy eyes
jazzy grin
reclining lion in his den

butter smooth skin
clutching the mane
flowing precious blonde locks
fretless bass

ebony and ivory
it sustains for days
bibb lettuce on my chiseled chin
should i grow a moustache?
no.

got to stop by randall's and get some eggs
my name is stingk

keeping it real, it's in my contract
i'm contractually obligated
talk to stan, he's my lawyer
look at that leg
shake that leg stan

preening paws
lick my chops
my wife keeps calling me to pick her up from soccer

me and elvis costello
we got us a new career
singing bing crosby, summer in the dumpster

my name is is stingk

i'm no hero
look at my skin tone
it's called pantone
60 bucks

my therapist says i'm doing better
i've learned how to snowboard and i'm cooking more
i started on the treadmill, now check this out

intramural volleyball at aussie's and pints and plates at Zax
Track Name: You're Fat
wax jack hands
chewin up land
filling up bellies with freeze dried ham
a rip down snort of the gluttonous sort
you juggle your gut
your chins contort
you're fat

spammed out daze
flash a purple-pink haze
on the jiggly wiggly flesh slapping down your legs
i lost your face in the apple pie
the oversized socks running up your thigh
you're fat
you're fat

your hammy fists grip each drop and drip of the pickle juice slop slurping down your lip
you're fat
you're fat
you're fat
Track Name: Mister Treadmill
bottled water, t.v. dinner
walking nowhere makes him thinner
mister treadmill.
he dreads standing still

spinning circles like a rocket top
he doesn't think, he doesn't stop
he's dangling bills on a fishing line
helps him to run, keeps him in line

mister treadmill.
he dreads standing still

has a drink from the kitchen sink
and he walks the dog on his treadmill
what a treadmill!
with ten speeds!
and a mountain range setting!

oh mrs. treadmill!
spice things up...
your husband never will
Track Name: In The Future
In the future, it will be found that any benevolent impulse not acted upon will clog the arteries and cause cardiac arrest. All those with the right idea but too weak-willed to act upon it will be clutching their chests in agony by their mid-50's, while all the greedy assholes who never had a feeling of empathy to begin with will be laughing over their piles of money into their 80s, 90s, and beyond.

In the future, it will also be found that money is the great lubricant, if you will, in more ways than one. Rich folks will have perfected a method of crushing hundred dollar bills into a creamy paste, which they will rub all over their bodies, in an effort to stave off wrinkles, sags, and other signs of age. Poor folks will have tried a similar technique by collecting all the world's discarded pennies, but the paste subsequently attained only deepened their wrinkles and gave off a smell that the rich would do their best to avoid.

In the future, it will be found that each human hair is tiny antenna to a giant cosmic being named Hair God, who is a primordial being obsessed with follicles and who possessed the body and mind of Vidal Sassoon at various points in his life.

Of course, if the human hairs have been permed or teased, their antenna powers will be blunted severely, if not entirely eliminated.

In the future, every time somebody notices or mentions you on CyberCosmos (the great integrated social networking platform that has virtual representations of everything: every human, every emotion, every blade of grass and speck of dirt, and has even managed to incorporate unified field theory), a red pellet is automatically dispensed from a hole in the ceiling shaped like a cloud eerily reminiscent of Charleton Heston playing Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” The pellet is sweet and sugary and mildly sedates you for a few minutes. Some people do not eat these pellets, instead collecting them and trading them like the beads and furs of yesteryear.

In fact, the red pellet black market has been doing a brisk business of late, with one confirmed exchange of 10,000 pellet for a 1997 Geo Metro.

Which brings up the following: in the future, it will be generally agreed upon that the 1997 Geo Metro was the best car ever made.

Moving on.

In the future, the walls of our dwellings will be edible. At the end of the hallway of most apartment buildings will be a bakery that manufactures edible bricks to fill the holes in the walls. In the great “Angry Stomachs” protest of 2040, a group of 400,000 angry Union members gathered and ate through the West Wing of the White House.

They were eventually pushed back as the military began shooting mortar rounds of Dexatrim, the famed diet pill of the late 1980s. Since Dexatrim was in fact just a speed pill, similar in nature to cocaine, these 400,000 angry, stuffed Union members all turned to one another and began blabbing non-stop about how excited they were about “all this cool shit coming up.” Since everyone was talking all at once, nobody could hear each other, and the resultant din sounded 400,000 screaming hyenas.

The right-wing media subsequently spun the episode to demonstrate Union members as “gluttonous speed-freaks anxiously discussing things that will never happen.”