It takes a backwash man To sing a backwash song Like a frying pan when the fire's gone Driving my pig while the band's taking pictures in the grass In my radio smashed And I like pianos in the evening sun Dragging my heels 'til my day is done Saturday night in the captain's clothes Tender horns blowing' in my jury 'fros Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en el cerebro* I can't believe my way back when My Cadillac pants going much to fast Karaoke weekend at the suicide shack Community service and I'm still the Mack Shocked my finger, spots on my hand I been spreading disease all across the land Beautiful air-conditioned, Sitting in the kitchen Wishing I was living like a hit man Face down in the guarantees Jaundiced honchos getting' busy with me Because I get down I get down I get down all the way Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en el cerebro* Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders Western Unions of the country westerns Silver foxes looking for romance In the chain-smoke Kansas flash dance ass pants And you got the hotwax residues You never lose in your razor blade shoes Stealing pesos out of my brain Hazard signs down the Alamo lanes Radar systems piercing the souls You never get caught with the wax so rotten All my days I got the grizzly words Hijacked flavors that I'm flipping like birds Yo soy un disco quebrado Yo tengo chicle en el cerebro* [Girl:] "Who are you?" [Man:] "I'm the enchanting wizard of rhythm." [Girl:] "Why did you come here?" [Man:] "I came here to tell you about the rhythms of the universe...."
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