[Instrumental]
Stop, look, listen, learn; your lessions have begun. O.K. school's in session-lesson #1, Inductive, deductive reasoning and thought. It's called logic
[Nieder / Christ] That is it, you need a hit Radio friendly and kind of trendy Think video That's the way to go You've got to push that product and
by Scatterbrain from the recording titled 'Here Comes Trouble' (instrumental) ----------------------------------------
My girl's all a man could want, there ain't no doubt about her I got a girl and yes indeed- She's got everything I need. You know I tried the rest, and
Scamboogery, Scamboogery-Watch out! Watch out, don't look now; Here it comes and don't ask how. Scamboogery-Look out! Scamboogery can get you anytime
Oh no, here I go... If I go here or I go there or anywhere, It follows me or meets me there - it's in the air Here comes trouble What did I do now, how
[Brogna] "Quiere dejame contar las olas del mar Te puedo quiero mas que un ano tiene dias Te quiero mas que ningun otro hombre en la ciudad But baby,
[Brogna / Christ] I went to a doctor with a pain in my head He said: "Tumor boy! Six months you're dead, It's gonna be slow and painful It ain't gonna
I'm walking out In a force ten gale Birds thrown around Bullets for hail The roof is pulling off By its fingernails Your voice is rapping On my windowsill
Tastes Just Like Chicken by Scatterbrain From "Scamboogery" How much wood could a woodchuck chuck, If a woodchuck couldn't chuck wood? It would chuck
Down in the dumps and feeling blue, Sitting home got nothing to do. Help me-Just get me.... Down the road, down the road, that's where it's best. Homesick
Once upon a time I used to be alive, I lived and loved, I laughed and cried. But I've fogotten how 'cause that was then and this is now I'm down so low
by Scatterbrain from the recording titled 'Here Comes Trouble' Color by numbers, stay inside the lines Ya got a question? Check the rulebook, see the
I'm walking out in a force ten gale. birds thrown around, bullets for hail. the roof is pulling off by its fingernails. your voice is rapping on my window
Onwards here; there's mud to feed And how many paving-stones? Times will tell when Samael is near And how many monikers more? And curse the dead ones