Sailing The Seas Of CheeseLyrics

Seas Of Cheese

When the going gets tough and the stomache acids flow,
The cold wind of comformity is nipping at you're nose,
When some trendy new atrocity has brought you to you're knees,
Come with us we'll sail the seas of cheese.

Here Come The Bastards

Here they come.
Here come the bastards.
I heard it from a confidant.
They're definately on their way.
There's one with this idea,
Something about a hammerhead shark
Nosehairs and flatus
Best keep your distance because
Here they come.
Here come the bastards.
Bury your head deep in the sand.
Anonymity is a virtue in this day and age.
Amazing hand dexterity.
Flagrant misuse of security.
Better run, run, run, run, run
Run run run run
Here they come.

Sgt. Baker

Sgt. Baker is my name.
I'm gonna teach you how to play the game of warfare.
Suddenly it appears to me
You got a bit much dignity for you're own good, boy.
Yes Sir. Yes Sir.

I will rape your personality.
Pummel you with my own philosophy.
Strip you of your self-integrity
To make you all just a bit like me.
I said right, left.

Sgt. Baker here again
And if you calls me "Puddin Tane"
I'll stomp you down, boy.
Steers and queers, steers and queers.
Where you come from there's just steers and queers
And you ain't got no horns, boy.
Yes Sir. Yes Sir.

I will rape your personality.
Pummel you with my own philosophy.
Strip you of your self-integrity
To make you all just a bit like me.
I said right, left.

American Life

In a town down in southernmost Sicily
Lived a family too proud to be poor.
In the year that the fever took father away
They hastened for American shores.
Now a mother and son are standing in line
It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
And they look to the Statue of Liberty.
For the boy we have American Life.

Ong is a Lastian refugee.
He works in the audio trade.
The smoke from flux is filling his lungs.
He's earning minimum age.
Spending spare time down in San Pablo Ave.
Once a week gets a woman for the night.
And he writes home tales of prosperity.
For the boy we have American Life.

Bob is an unemployed veteran.
Born and bred in the South Bronx.
He's living off the streets down in East L.A.
Residing in a cardboard box.
Now he plays a little guit and he has a small dog.
Searching for aluminum cans.
And he holds-on tight to his dignity.
He was born into American Life.

Jerry Was A Race Car Driver

Jerry was a race car driver
And he drove so goddamned fast.
He never did win no checkered flag,
But he never did come in last.
Jerry was a race car driver
He'd say "El Sob number one"
With a Bocephus sticker on his 442
He'd lightem up just for fun.

Captain pierce was a fireman.
Richmond engine #3
I'll be a wealthy man when I get a dime
For all the things that man tought to me.
Captain Pierce was a strong man.
Strong as any man alive.
It stuck in his craw that they made him retire
At the age of 65.

Jerry was a race car driver.
22 years old
Had one too many cold beers one night
And wrapped himself around a telephone pole.


I just can't seem to blend into society.
I have no hope for this dim simplicity
Of law and order.
By whose rules I see no rhyme in the reason.
I hold no hope for this holy treason
Of love and so soft.
By whose standards
They tell me, they tell me.
Who are they, who is they.

Is It Luck?

My socks and shoes always match.
Is it luck?
There's a foot at the end of each of my legs.
Is it luck?
I can play my bass for you.
Is it luck?
Some girls like to kiss my face.
Is it luck?

Is it luck?

There was food inside your mouth today.
Is it luck?
Your barber cuts your hair just so.
Is it luck?
Well you can count to ten and back again.
Is it luck?
When the taste of sex is on your lips,
Is it luck?

Is it luck?

Cyanide works oh so fast.
Is it luck?
Polyester makes you sweat.
Is it luck?
If a graham cracker get you off.
Is it luck?
Love. Love?
Is it luck?

Is it luck?

She said she wanted my body and not my mind
So I showed her my dictionary and the words that I know
And how loquatious I can be when I set my mind down to it.
But she wasn't impressed.
No n-no n-no n-no n-no n-no!
She wasn't impressed at all.
She whispered in my ear.
She whispered in my ears, she said
"Yo wanna get lucky, little boy?"
Well, I smiled. I smiled and said...

Is it luck?

Grandad's Little Ditty

As I stand here in the shower
Singing opera and such,
Pondering the possibility that I pull the pud too much.
There's a scent that fills the air.
Is it flatus? Just a touch.
And it makes me think of you.

Tommy The Cat

"I remember it as if it were a meal ago."
Said Tommy The Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter may have nestled its way into his mighty throat. Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank down the cavernous barrel of the awesome prowling machine. Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator. Tommy The Cat had many a story to tell, but it was a rare occasion such as this that he did.

"She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit. The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the oldest that hung around the hot spot in those days. The sight was beyond belief. Many a head snapped for double, even triple, takes as this vivacious feline made her way into the delta of the alleyway were the most verile of the young tabbys were known to hang out. They hung out in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in one place and that was O'Malley's Alley.

The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended) but not even a muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered straight into the heart of the alley. She knew what she wanted. She was lookin' for that stud bull, the he cat. And that was me. Tommy The Cat is my name and I say unto thee...

Say baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby, do you wanna lay down by my side?
Say baby, do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby! Say baby!

Those Damned Blue Collar Tweakers

I've seen them out at Soco.
They're pounding sixteen-penny nails.
The truckers on the interstate have been known to ride the rails.
The sweat is beating on the brow, can't keep these fellows down
'Cause those damned blue collar tweakers
Are runnin' this here town.

I knew a man who hung drywall.
He hung it mighty quick.
A trip or to to the blue room would help him do the trick.
His foreman would pat him on the back
Whenever he would come around
'Cause those damned blue collar tweakers
Are beloved in this here town.

Now the union boys are there to protect us
From all the corporate type.
While curious George's drug patrol is out here hunting snipe.
Now they try to tell me different but you know I ain't no clown
'Cause those damned blue collar tweakers
Are the backbone of this town.

Now the flame that burn twice as bright burns only half as long.
My eyes are growing weary as I finalize this song.
So sit back and have a cup o' joe and watch the whells go round
'Cause those damned blue collar tweakers
Have always run this town.

Fish On (Fisherman Chronicles, Chapter II)

Felt a pang late one afternoon.
I was fishin' off Muir Beach with Larry LaLonde.
Grabbed a tuna salad sandwich and I started to chew.
Pretty soon Ler's yellin'
Fish on. Fish on.

I was just a little pup and it was derby day.
Was Dad and me and Darrell out in San Pablo Bay.
Taco flavoured Doritos and my orange life vest.
Dad caught a hundred pound sturgeon on a twenty pound test.
Now he fought that fish for about an hour and a half.
Darrell said, "Jump ye sons a bitch!" and he grabbed for the gaff.
When we got him in the boat he measured six feet long.
I was so danged impressed I has to write this song called
Fish on.

T'was a bright sunny day.
It was just me and Todd Huth
Fishin' shark & string-ray out of Bolinas Lagoon.
Well hey, hey, hey, I'll be screwed, blued and tatooed,
Look like I got me one of them fish on.
Fish on.

Page was last modified on 1/11/97 by Jason LaFrance (
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