She played for The Angels,
I played for The Tribe
The summer had been stolen
And the bases were all loaded
There was big money on the line
Big money all the time, yeah
There was big money on the line
I can`t walk so I guess I`m gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my head alone
I was in the kitchen
The year was in the fall
A friend of mine had told me
That there weren`t no point in mowing
No there weren`t no point at all
There big fire in the hall, yeah
There wern`t no points at all
I can`t walk so I guess I`m gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my head alone
And I can`t talk so I guess I`ve got nothing to say
I`ll keep my eyes just take these tears away.
Lock, stock and barrel
All the dogs were gone and feral
And the car ran like a broken percolator
His liver had gone hard
And he wouldn`t mow the yard
There was big money on the line
And I heard that his brother was a viking
He liked to solve a problem with gun
If you want to know the facts
You`ve gotta teach them how to act
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I`d rather be a sailor than a fighter
I'd like to sail a ship into the sun
If you want to know the truth
You gotta dig up Johnny Booth
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I know that your mother is a martyr
I`ve heard shes got connections with the mob
If you wanna learn to fight
You`ve gotta drink up all night
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I rather be a matchstick than a lighter
I like to see the wood curl up and burn
If you wanna touch the sky
You must be prepared to die
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I hate cough syrup
And I hate the fruity myrrh
And I hate cough syrup
It's true
If you wanna know the truth
You`ve gotta dig up Johnny Booth
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I hate cough syrup
It's true
I played for The Tribe
The summer had been stolen
And the bases were all loaded
There was big money on the line
Big money all the time, yeah
There was big money on the line
I can`t walk so I guess I`m gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my head alone
I was in the kitchen
The year was in the fall
A friend of mine had told me
That there weren`t no point in mowing
No there weren`t no point at all
There big fire in the hall, yeah
There wern`t no points at all
I can`t walk so I guess I`m gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my head alone
And I can`t talk so I guess I`ve got nothing to say
I`ll keep my eyes just take these tears away.
Lock, stock and barrel
All the dogs were gone and feral
And the car ran like a broken percolator
His liver had gone hard
And he wouldn`t mow the yard
There was big money on the line
And I heard that his brother was a viking
He liked to solve a problem with gun
If you want to know the facts
You`ve gotta teach them how to act
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I`d rather be a sailor than a fighter
I'd like to sail a ship into the sun
If you want to know the truth
You gotta dig up Johnny Booth
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I know that your mother is a martyr
I`ve heard shes got connections with the mob
If you wanna learn to fight
You`ve gotta drink up all night
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I rather be a matchstick than a lighter
I like to see the wood curl up and burn
If you wanna touch the sky
You must be prepared to die
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I hate cough syrup
And I hate the fruity myrrh
And I hate cough syrup
It's true
If you wanna know the truth
You`ve gotta dig up Johnny Booth
And I hate cough syrup
Don`t you?
I hate cough syrup
It's true
Lyrics submitted by itchasg, edited by AwfulToTheEar
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keep up the good work
I view the song as being one of Butthole Surfers' many songs about escapism through drug use. "If you wanna touch the sky you must be prepared to die;" does this band seem like one that falls on the side of believing in a heavenly afterlife? That just seems to me like an acknowledgement that life sucks, and must be escaped in some way that involves throwing your time down one of life's many optional sinkholes.
What are some ways to spend your time to avoid life's misery? You can spend that time on love. The first few verses depict a love story between two people whose differences can't really be reconciled. A summer had been completely stolen, and the love tale isn't treated like a romantic story, but as an event that is being gambled on. The next verse is in the fall, and not only are things not any better, but friends tell the man that there's no use even acknowledging the problems. A couple of verses later seem to depict the natural conclusion of love as an escape from life's misery versus the romantic view of love: an alcoholic nobody who doesn't do anything around the house, still holding to hope that something will change without actually wanting to do anything about it.
Not to mention, apparently the brother solved a similar problem with a gun barrel. So love is out as a successful way of escape. What else is there? Well, the singer would rather just escape the problems outright than try to fight them. Trying to fight the world's problems gets you John Wilkes Boothed, or shot down by the mafia, and always the focus of attention whether you succeed or not. Not to mention that the singer would rather burn out than be a catalyst for others. It seems like we're settling on chemical escapism now. And who doesn't hate chugging cough syrup? Can't say I've tried it, but it seems unpleasant.
Oh, and travel doesn't work either if you don't like eating foreign cuisine.
Seriously, I dunno if anyone in Butthole Surfers ever did heroin or any hard drugs like that, but at least one of them certainly tried LSD or possibly shrooms at some point. This song almost definitely is about drug use. The cough syrup connection alone is enough to draw that line for me. Almost no one above the age of 8 is using cough syrup. Most people I know just suck it up.