whiskeyfightpit

CHILDREN IN PERIL

You don't know shit until you catch a brick in the teeth
For the first time
I wanna see
I wanna know
Let me get a closer look
Of children in peril
Put in on television
Put 'em right in the gruel
You can't do a goddamned thing until you land flat on your ass
And get on your feet again
Timeless advice
Intuition passed down to
Children in Peril
First dumb fuck in line for the witch burning
Last fuck that'll tell you where he's been
Been doing that for some time
Put a box on it
Dance around all of the children in peril

LANCE HENRICKSEN

Somebody put a bunch of beef jerky around some civil war idiots remains
Musta been 'round Gettysburg
Devil'd shit his pants if he caught a glimpse of this.
Walking dead on celluloid
Not a goddamned dime on makeup
George Romero can spend a little more on blow and Hong Kong Cock
One time
Two Time
Three time a vampire pissin' on your door
Four time
five time
six time my mind went blank when they made a sequel to Pumpkinhead

BRAD DOURIF
It was a still birth
Chaplain done went back to the glory hole
Best parta that lost soul ran down the back of his mammy's arse
It's like the hand of god at work
An actor is born
Certainly not a star
Got an axe to grind or a toad to cast
Glory be, he lives this day
Clappin' hands in the black churches
Grim Prairie Tales and The Graveyard Shift back to back
It's like locusts to corn
And Catholics to Hell
Even Color Of Night
The Kurt Rambis of B-Movies
Glory be, he lives this day

SCRAP IRON

Chases whiskey with varnish
Chases pipe tobacco with chew
Lucky strikes unfiltered
Keeps his earnings in a shoe

Born on Labor day
With his pop's belt to his back and hand tugging his mother's skirt
Guesses not much comes from this earth
without catching a few bruises
Somehow makes it more worthwile

Keep your head down
Zip yer mouth closed
Maybe they'll let you work in their traps
Catch a couple crumbs from the table
Paradise is almost in your reach

These lessons learned and the years between.
Would've made this boy nothing less than scrap iron
That age died long ago
As did the nostalgia that often follows

Too good of a worker to be dropped in an asylum
Face too grim and worn for selling cars
Every ditch has already been dug
Every union post an ass is sit

The women often glare and whisper
Entertain him with pleasantries and Hallmark gestures
None choose to grant this golem life's greatest reward
At least not without gold, services, or gifts.

Scrap Iron, they say won't ever leave his post
Not a sick day on record
Not one second missed
chases chew with remorse
for what isn't there
A back that won't break
a soul that can take no more

SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
David Bowie "Fashion"
WE ARE THE GOON SQUAD AND WE'RE COMING TO TOWN....BEEP BEEP