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Dad's Best Shirt

by DAADs

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1.
2.
Immobile Sex 02:11
I saw you floating there At the gab coral Your colony might be big But baby, you ain't got morals Tentacles flowing like hair Your stylish sting Nematocysts Get me hot and bothered I took you to the bar But your basal disc said No no no no no no no Shook your barrier hips But no no no no no no Stay here I'll save ya Don't mind those other jellies I need that deep-sea company Oh mamma medusa Pop my polyp Tropical relations Perfect for a topical debate Better get a ready Mouth/anus Make me a dad Mouth/anus African tropics Nigerian cnidarians
3.
How can I believe sir With 7 whiskeys on his breath You’re a Clint Eastwood type danger To the land All my men Stand with bullets in their chest Painting landscapes Churches look like hell Let my spectacles Melt your fucking words Ant hilled, corn holed gullets I snort the mines For mother Prussia For my damned conscious Colonies of cascading cuckolds Keeping the game fucking red Though small you pack that Tequila punch A lesson to learn over and over again Welcome home, welcome home Gimme that little bit of leg Before I wash you with the rest The red riverbank Fucking stank Crying and humping away Every day Help me you beardy boy Gimme some of that friction estate Riding into heated, Pulsing, blurred terrain Without the slightest refrain If I were a book would you read me? If I were a book would you read me? Would you find me at the library? What would you file me under, reference? Would you clean my cover? Would you rub my spine? Would you read me? Summer is baking our heads And we can’t think straight
4.
Our children might be perverts Lock them in the cage Keep their minds on stun Sit back and drink Everything will be ok It’ll never be ok Shrink-wrap is out of the question Don’t wrap it up Just choke on it Just choke on the words we say And if you aren’t blessed Satan will rub you down And lube you up And the filth will be caked in the Back of your eyes Why don’t you fight in wars? That is what set me straight Now only god and country can Get me hard anymore Insert my rod A into your slot B Making hellion babies And crying like rivers Boys shouldn’t play with boys That’s what the scouts are for That’s what our faith is for Visiting your children every night Is worse than drinking It’s disgusting, it’s disgusting It’s disgusting, it’s disgustin My head breathes a sideway shape While you talk I bet she does I recognize those stains Spit saints She’d love to swallow Your loads of fun Give her time to get ready Who knows what The fucks in store Gimme more
5.
Be wary, safety lies in fear Fuck you dad don’t watch me here Your forehead tastes like Tenders a suggestion Drifting off, I forget myself I see my father in my mind’s eye My friend saw him too Yesternight Great thing we ain’t kosher Time is out of joint, and so are we As I was sewing in my closet I patched the palest of pants For Hamm, who stared Shooting thoughts from his eyes Shoot it out, but not on ma’ pigtails Why is day is time is night is moon More metter, more better butter Like father like uncle like son You weren’t the only one Feed on me, Edible Oedipus Stomping on countries For literary progress Writing books based on me And my lives with wives overseas Willie had a goatee One day he shaved it off His friends gave him shit for it So he took a knife Found the roots Grew it back Made it into a documentary It was produced by Picturehouse
6.
Driving around in my Bummer Car Knees squeezing my temples Blood flowing to my pupils Running late for Cigarette Christmas Feeling the unlucky strike, drunk on Keystone Light We were born in 1992 That would make us older then Old Navy Accordionado aficionados Disease can be a social thing Living in a plastic playhouse Subsiding on heart accessories At home you put different clothes on At home you’re teasing me Showing off your see-through rain coat Showing off your bachelor’s degree Father’s busy at the sawmill Mother’s tied to the railroad track Completely free from distraction Holiday nails digging stiff backs Striped clothes and a heart attack Family fashion trendsexuals Setting to spend Your plaid shorts cause tricks Just like a 90’s personality You dress like a son
7.
Strange animals, like snakes, in a hole Gray matter women dancing Way down in the belly of a snake pit I don’t care because I just don’t care about him anymore I was a doggy or a little girl Selfishness is a good sign of sanity Bury your memories Don’t go out with boys You went to New York to rub it Husbands and fathers can’t be the same thing No they can, can’t they? Find the fucking light switch Or you can’t hold your dark hair No one dances with the same person three times Strangle boat bank men make gorgeous dance partners We ain’t gonna burn it down this time Keep talking to me, keep talking to me Don’t ever shut up
8.
I can take it You can’t handle me I could wake the dead It’s Night It’s quiet Awful and quiet Awfully public Perfect If you Don’t stop Slowing down You won’t get Nervous Believe it Enough Love it love it love it love it love it love it love it Enough It’s always enough, It’s always enough You’re always talking to me Overloaded with you
9.
Orange monochrome dancery Shutting out from the fading purple living quarters Kiss me here Banging pots and pans Carbohydrate fetishes Secret candy addictions From mommy to me Making the reddest of sauces Squeezing the thickest of crèmes Staring into crimson red sky children Blue baby nurseries Sad notes on unknown messes Clean it up dad; it’s up to you We left it here for you to do Oversized gala puppets Black and white Pinstriped, fleeing Who are you? Blue phantom circular insecuricors Men of sizeable suits Matching party hats Drinks are a swirl You drive me like a sleep eater You drive me out of my bed, you drive me out of my head You drive me like a sleep eater So I can dream instead, so I can feed instead I could be your diet Sleeping waking walking, weeping wibbly-wobbly
10.
I’ve got cranium can opener For beers domestic and free Screaming matchbooks Screaming dreams To a crowd like me Flank in a flack jacket I have sour memories Of pork-laced cutlets And bloodied beef I love those colds rubbing up Against me I found the fountain of youth And it runs on propane Beef rings the bell Kiss the cook C’mon kiss the cook Denouncing claims Taking aim Topping off My propane I identify where my Manhood should be Boomhauer Boomhauer I miss you every day Clogged up Arteries Snapped suspenders Broken pants Meat has been Tender to me So bright Burning blight Kiss the cook C’mon kiss the cook C’mon kid Monsanto Momma Santa
11.
Go Soccer! 01:54
Go go go go go go go Goal I am half the world I am a kicking comet High socks, gold colors No hands, no hands No hands Back home I’m the picture In the paper In your pocket Rubbing against your futbols Thinking of jesus Every game How hard does the lord cheer? Playing oversized Hackensack Getting my bikini waxed We’re always playing clean No hands Playing clean No hands Staying clean No hands Good sportsmanship No hands Checkered Referees No Hands Chest bumps No Hands Bros tapping toes No hands Down in Asia They don’t have hands Kicking fowls Penalty shots Un-sportsman-like conduct Throwing up red flags Throwing fits right back Causing riots Feeling big Gaining national acclaim Go go go go go go go Goal But now I play for the USA And I’m broke

credits

released February 22, 2011

Your Father is:
Sweatshop Dad: bass, guitar, pouty coma
Lazy Bathrobe Dad: stern talkings-to, keyboard
Farm Dad: guitar, bass, assisted talkings-to
Business Dad: drums, faces
Combover Dad: guitar, tough love

All songs by DAADs; All lyrics by Lazy Bathrobe Dad
Recorded at the office, Jan.-Feb. 2011

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