So as many of you are aware, I’m in a band. It’s a rock ‘n’ roll band. We rock. Okay, so many of you probably aren’t aware of that, but you soon will be. Some of you might be aware that I’m the bass player. Others might be aware that I don’t actually know how to play a bass. But I’m not sure that the bass player from Linkin Park does either, so really, what’s the difference?
Anyway, the band I’m in also features my buddies Todd Hoyer and Matthew DeRosa. We’ve had this band for quite awhile now, we’ve just never had a rehearsal. But that’s all changing this weekend when we get together at Matt’s new house for our first ever practice. I think we’ll probably spend the first four hours of practice hanging tie-dye tapestries and christmas lights, but it’s sure to be productive after that.
I know you’re curious as to the name of our band. Well you’re gonna have to wait to find out. I can tell you that we were formerly known as The Loveguns. But then our tour manager died (or rather, our tour manager didn’t magically arise from the ashes of our cigarettes) and we felt we just couldn’t go on with that name after that. We sort of went our separate ways for awhile. I started my own side project with some other guys who still want to learn to play instruments and for a couple months there we had our own fantasy band called Too Tall Mikey and the Not So Handsome Cabbies. We were a Linkin Park cover band.
Anyway, as soon as our debut double album hits the stores, we’ll let you know.
But earlier today Todd, Matt, and I were trading lyrics to songs. Matt and Todd had a real life collaborative duo where they actually wrote real songs. Good ones, too. So I was feeling a little left out of the creative circle, so I took a second to compose my own song. The melody has to be determined, but it is my pleasure to present to you the first song written by me for the band formerly known as The Loveguns and soon to be something else.
Soup with a fork, filled with pork,
stars and noodles.
Who invented the spork, what a dork,
stars and noodles.
My soup is condensed and tastes like water, my life is condensed and
fates they falter, as do I when I try. But I try and I try.
Stars and noodles.
Chicken, beef, broth in a bullion cube.
I’m the chicken, so are millions o’you.
Where’s the beef? Beatin’ my ass
like a honky with no hair but a great big chunky, yet condensed mullet
on his melon.
The guy’s a felon.
(female chorus sings: felon-felon-felon-felon-felon)
My jaw be busted, my life be broke,
my girl done left me with a nickel
plated .9 strapped to the back of a
three legged dog named Toke.
Puff puff fogive, puff puff forgive.
Too high to cry too afraid to die,
but sober enough to find the Progresso.
Chicken with stars?
Chicken with noodles?
Or do you like beans?
Pinto, lima, green, or Navy?
[break to Village People refrain]
In the Navy!
blah blah blah blah
In the Navy!
[and back to the song]
My stars and my noodles
pit bulls or poodles,
Hold up, I didn’t order Chinese.
I’m all goddamn outta Febreeze.
Whether tomato with basil,
lentil with crackers,
Crab bisque with honkies,
or Duck Soup (with quackers)
Soup is good food.
Hooray for soup.
Groucho, Chico, Harpo and you.
But not Zeppo or Shemp
NO SOUP FOR YOU!