Chris Wall Well I was raised in a sophisticated kind of style But my taste in music and women drove my folks half wild Mom and Dad had a plan for me, it was debutantes and symphonies But I like my music hot and my women wild You see I like my women just a tad on the trashy side When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed Too much lipstick and too much rouge Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused I like my women just a tad on the trashy side Well you should have seen the look on the face of my Dad and Mom When I showed up at the door with my date for the senior prom They said, "Pardon us son, she ain't no kid, That's a cocktail waitress in a Dolly Parton wig" I said, "I know, ain't she great, Dad? That's the kind I dig." See I like my women just a tad on the trashy side When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed Too much lipstick and too much rouge Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused I like my women just a tad on the trashy side. Yea, I like 'em sweet. I like 'em with a heart of gold But I like 'em brassy. I like 'em brazen and bold. They say opposites attract, well I don't agree I need a woman that's as tacky as me I like my women just a tad on the trashy side When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed Too much lipstick and too much rouge Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused I like my women just a tad on the trashy side Yeah, I like my women just a tad on the trashy side.

Keith Sykes About her eyes, now they're misty shinin' About her hair, it's long and clean About her face, now it's soft and smiling But you can't trace her thoughts 'cause they can't be seen When she flows by you so gently She brings a breeze that just cleans the air When she speaks it's barely a whisper That tries to hide but you know it's there She smiles at you and it sends you sailin' It sweeps you yonder along in the night You glide with ease and you hardly feel it But you tell you're driftin' in a moments flight When she leaves you become quite drowsy So you recline in your easy chair She's left you there to think in silence About her eyes, her face, and her hair

Paul Siebel Well come gather around me friends of mine, While I sing to you about a minstrel band Of children in their witches hats, Painting pictures with the pipes of pan How a young boy and his sister played some tunes Upon a whistle made of tin And led me through the flower gardens, Laughing at the postman's stubby chin And in my dizzy stupor, I was trying to forfeit all I'd known And listen to that music that could swirl me in a magic all it's own But somewhere in the distance, You and I, we fought our monsters to a draw It was in those days of books and wine, With Ferlin Getty grasping for a straw And out along the highways, We journeyed far to find that mystic smile Chasing down identities, My God we must have run a million miles So we can teach the children, Nothing, nothing but survival in the desert bare They can teach us how to laugh, How to love and tie bright ribbons in our hair So sing for us you children, Tinkle bells and rhyme the purple, greens and blues Think of us as fighting fools, Who wintered through our seasons loving you Think of us as fighting fools, Who wintered through our seasons loving you Cause you can teach us how to laugh, How to love and tie bright ribbons in our hair

The blood and skin are melting Inside the funeral gown All earthly matters dwelling Inside will soon be gone Dead I'm dead No more life to live No fear I'm dead Let it burn Welcoming flames Consume my flesh Let me roast and burn Fuck you all, I've had my turn Dead I'm dead No more life to live No fear I'm dead Let it burn Let it burn Dead I'm dead No more life to live No fear I'm dеad

Rituals, sacrifice, humans to the slaughter The promise of the gods means killing your sons and daughters The blood on your hands for the good of your tribe Will assure your place in heaven the day that you die Parading mothers feeding the greedy fathers Like shattered mirror images on the path of death Thus lay their faith in sacrificial knives Remnants of rituals that will come to haunt their lives A thousand years of progress Seem to not exist There is a price to pay For whoever that resist Resist thе claims of heaven Resist thе claims of hell Under the burden of reality You find the human spell