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My Many Smells Dead Milkmen like a barrel of rotting fruit Stinking up the jungle under the hot tropical sun Other times I smell like thick black swamp-water Backed up into your toilet on a warm summer day These are a few of my Filet of Sole Dead Milkmen Filet of sole baby Is my favorite dish Filet of sole baby When the dish is fish Cause oh, I lose control When you serve filet of sole Now your cooking baby Got an appetite Said your cooking Beach Song Dead Milkmen Sand is hurting my tender feet The air smells like rotting fish and solarcaine I hate the people on the beach With their towels and umbrellas They're so zany I don't wanna be on the beach No! I Tripped Over the Ottoman Dead Milkmen They call me Robert Petry and I live in New Rochelle With my wife Laura and son Richie But now my life's a living HELL 'Cause I tripped over the ottoman one too many times I tripped over the ottoman Filet of Sole The Dead Milkmen "Filet of sole baby Is my favorite dish Filet of sole baby When the dish is fish Cause oh, I lose control When you serve filet of sole Now you're cookin' baby Got an appetite Said you're cookin' baby Smells (Theme from) Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern Dead Milkmen Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern You are invited To Blood Orgy of the Atomic Fern You are invited So many Fifty Things Dead Milkmen haven't seen your records I haven't seen any of that No I haven't seen your skateboard I haven't seen your Black Flag patch Barbara I'm sorry if you were unhappy But you can't say I didn't try So many Beach Song The Dead Milkmen "Sand is hurting my tender feet The air smells like rotting fish and solarcaine I hate the people on the beach With their towels and umbrellas, they're so insane I don't want to be on the beach! No! Do the Brown Nose Dead Milkmen My name is Lester Shy, and these fine gentlemen all around me - why they're The Shyphonics. And we hail PROUDLY from Fargo, North Dakota. The Thing That Only Eats Hippies Dead Milkmen it slithered it's way out to old Irvine And ate a couple of hippies and they tasted just fine Now it's got a sweet tooth for long hair So Bob and Greg and Grant you should beware Followin the Dead I Can't Stay Awake The Dead Milkmen I can't stay awake Somebody help me, please I have too many fingers Some of them need to leave Help me out of my body Help me not to sleep I can't stay awake Somebody help me, please I have Rastabilly Dead Milkmen My baby's got two hands My baby's got two feet My baby's got a forehead And all the chicken you can eat My baby's got two elbows My baby sure has a nose My baby she's got ten toes And my baby's Sri Lanka Sex Hotel Dead Milkmen flames Let's have sex without birth control Sell our offspring to some dirty old man Let's play Big Black at 3 AM And tell the neighbors they can all get fucked Commin' over the first hill I felt my Big Lizard Dead Milkmen Big lizard in my backyard Can't afford to feed him anymore Big lizard in my backyard Bustin' down my neighbor's door I bought a big lizard Only a dollar fifty Well that's pretty neat Yeah it's Laundromat Song Dead Milkmen Soap and quarters and bleach and laundry Are the words I use at the laundromat Reading the news, and watching the people That's what I do at the laundromat At the laundromat my heart grows fat I Walk the Thinnest Line Dead Milkmen I walk the thinnest line I walk the thinnest line I walk the thinnest line Between the light and dark sides of my mind I walk the thinnest line I walk the thinnest line I walk the thinnest line I Against Osbourne Dead Milkmen I know the CIA is watching me I'm a target of the FBI and PMRC I do not sleep I spend my nights worrying of satellites They put an eye into the sky and did not tell the people why I do not sleep Nutrition Dead Milkmen Now my life is easy My life ain't hard I'm gonna spend all day In my fucking backyard I ain't got no money Hell, I don't care My parents let me use their credit cards I've got nowhere to go Gorilla Girl Dead Milkmen of love No one else would touch that girl Unless they wore a glove Gifted was this girl of mine Great knowledge could she grasp But once she ate a golf pro and vomited in the grass But I love my Little Man in My Head Dead Milkmen There's a little man in my head And he's drunk all of the time He sits there on a bench Holding a monkey wrench Sometimes he beats it up against my mind There's a little man in my head I don't Junkie Dead Milkmen My best friend is a junkie He shoots up all day Sometimes he even shits himself What else can I say? Silly Dreams Dead Milkmen I had a dream you came back to my house You changed your mind I had a dream you came back to my house To spend some time You said you'd only stay a week And brought two cats for me to keep And V.F.W. Dead Milkmen Mom and Dad don't like me They say I'm mean and rude They've tried to make me a good little boy By sticking downers in my food Fucked up world We're all veterans of a fucked up world Fucked up The Pit Dead Milkmen Hee and a hoe And I love my baby so In the bottom of the bottomless pit Don't make a sound Or we might drag your baby down To the bottom of the bottomless pit I'm covered with slime and ick and Bonus surprise endy bit Dead Milkmen Gonna beat my wife! Air Crash Museum Dead Milkmen Went out to feed the cattle and to my surprise My lawn was full of bodies just a gatherin' up the flies A big ol' jet liner had dropped from outta the sky I was so darned happy that I couldn't beleive The Secret of Life Dead Milkmen I saw a cigar shaped flying ship It landed outside on my lawn You poked your head out of a door And said, "Hurry up get on." Born to Love Volcanoes Dead Milkmen Born to love volcanoes Seen em on PBS Born to love volcanoes My apartment is a mess Somewhere under that pile of clothes Lies a whole $10 bill Telephones are ringing In a land called PBS Fat Swampland of Desire Dead Milkmen I will trim your fir trees And I will light your fire And I will wrestle alligators In your swampland of desire And I will come upon you Like lightning from above And I will plant my feet into Bleach Boys Dead Milkmen drink bleach You know we practice what we preach We're not a drunken bunch of frat-boys Trashed on beers Or a stoned bunch of hippies With no careers I wanna drink bleach with a Georgia peach My