A Drill Is Not A Telephone [instrumental]

Music for Throat Poach

New Food for Lumpy

Reddit Troll Pride Song [ad-lib]

Doctor Mocker was trying to record a song about Questlandia when he cut his finger on his shitty, dirty, four-stringed guitar and bled all over it. What's a punk to do? He decided to try to make a new song using only his middle finger. I used the version without all the noodling around at the start while he thinks of what to play. Anyway, this is what came out...

Play Till It Bleeds

I Played This Entire Song With My Middle Finger [ad-lib]

The Galaxies are Inside Us

Up Late Fixing the Time Machine

There's only one thing I know about New Zealand:
That it ain't fucking Australia
Costs thousands of kiwis to fly out there
But it seems cheaper to mail ya

Bumblin' around ol'Auckland town
In my jandals and togs at night
Looking for a muppet
And a munted bro to fight

Singing my songs
Loud and long
So what have I got to prove?
Come join me on my tiki tour
Drunk and out of tune
Drunk and out of tune
 
You'd think in school they'd teach about New Zealand
But instead they teach Australia
Left out disco punks and cyber funks
And the hot hobbits who'd nail ya

The scene can get obscene if you mention the queen
But if you get jailed I'll bail ya
Since the Statute of Westminster
They've had every chance to fail ya

Walkin around Queenstown
In my bogan clothes at night
Looking for a 
Hairy fern hole to fight

Singing my songs
Loud and long
So what have you got to prove?
Come join me on my tiki tour
Drunk and out of tune
Drunk and out of tune
Drunk and out of tune

...pass the scroggin...

[Instrumental chords]

Other countries may snicker and sneer
But fuck they're pioneers
Be you Maori or Lowry or a dead queen's dowry
Been punkin' for a thousand years

Thirty hours to fly out there
It seems far quicker to mail ya
Hope you've learned something from this song:
New Zealand ain't Australia

Walkin around the wops
With my taiaha at night
Looking for a dunny
and sus jafa to fight

Singing my songs
Loud and long
So what have I got to prove?
Come join me on my tiki tour
Drunk with attitude
Drunk with attitude
Drunk and out of tune

Drunk and out of tune
Drunk and out of tune
Drunk 
With attitude.

New Food For Lumpy

Killer Kiwis Assassins Club

Handicapped

Resurrection Misdirection [ad-lib]

Little Wafers(July ‘00)

Give me something to eat, 
‘Cause I’m feeling hungry
Give me something to chew 
‘Cause my hunger’s turned to pain.
The stores are closed and 
The money’s gone but 
I’ll give you all my water
If you promise me someone special 
To fill up my vacant space.

Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up
‘Cause I can’t wait to eat my fill

It don’t matter that the reds 
Are bled from dogs 
That the yellows 
Are made from pigs
It don’t matter that I’d eat Lincoln logs 
Just to keep from feeling empty
My heart is pumping Listerine 
My veins are pumping soy
I’m living for a bright green wafer 
Made of essence of a little boy

Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up
‘Cause I can’t wait to eat my fill

Eat your enemies
Eat your enemies
Eat your enemies 
Eat your new best friend
Eat your parents
Eat your parents
Eat your parents 
Eat their dead children

The markets are a riot and 
The police are full of fear
The furniture has all been nailed 
And the scoops are getting nearer
The Company said it’s plankton juice 
But it tastes like kidney pie
And I know where I’m going 
When it’s my turn to die

Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up
‘Cause I can’t wait to eat my fill

Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up 
Serve it up serve it up
Come on
Serve it up serve it up
‘Cause I can’t wait to eat my fill

No 
I can’t wait to eat my fill
Sitting licking at my sores 
The same way that I always will
I can’t wait to eat my fill

Full of you 
I’ve never felt 
So 
Lonely

Lo-Fi Sci-Fi

Little Wafers

This song was originally written by Mike Warren who is from Portland. He said Doctor Mocker could use it with his permission. In the process of covering it got "modified" a little bit. If you want to hear THE ORIGINAL version it is called "Just Once More" and it is very good! Please go to his Soundcloud and check him out.

Stealing from Open Mike in Portland [Apr '22]

[Doctor Mocker being nervous about doing a cover song]

Walk right up to that cellar door
Angels and the devils at civil war
Voices in your head saying just once more
Saw you melt down into that concrete floor

Saw you go
Down to where
The poppies grow...

Down below
This vicious world you know

[sorry Lumpy this just ain't me...]

Saw you walk up to that cellar door
Angels and the devils gotta have their war
Sure the voices in your head say 
Just once more
Saw you melt down on that concrete floor

Dragged your ass outta there 
Not sure if you can even remember
Lost in bliss and wearing shit not warm enough 
For Portland in December

You wake up, with a cigarette in your hand
Ever fuckin' wonder how it got there, man?
Offer you hot water and a cup of joe
Next thing you know you're out (at?) the fuckin' door

Let music be your matador
If (And?) you got somethin' worth fightin' for
The ecstasy of elegy and pain 
Put down on fucking chords
On chords!
ON FUCKING CHORDS!

[instrumental chords]

We're (well?) down
Down below you now
This vicious world you know
And high 
High above the clouds
Is the (This?) land where the poppies grow
But there's a third fucking choice
That choice is your voice
And yeah if you're vicious
You fucking deal with it
You fucking deal with it
You fucking deal with it

[instrumental chords]

So you're up again against that cellar door
To those angel-devils just another score
The concrete is calling in that old rapport
Your itchy dopesick hole (whore?) like an open sore

But I'll be here waiting if you haven't died
Drag your ass to Junior's for the thousandth time
Next time, turn around, play music instead,
Or say hello to Kurdt C. (courtesy?) when you're fucking dead

Now play some fucking songs!
More songs!
MORE FUCKING SONGS!

FUCK!

[?] <--- Right after "FUCK!" and before he says "Yah" or "Nah" or whatever (see below). Do you hear the sound of Eagle Falconhawk? Maybe it's just a nose whistle but it sounds very much like the Raptor Spirit to me.

[?] <--- not sure if he is saying No? Or yah? here. I think he is saying "no" as in like "this isn't very good, right?" cuz that is very much like him. But I want him to be saying "yah" as in like, "man, that was awesome!"

Lyric-transcriber's note: So I listened to this a bunch more today and now I'm not sure the original lyrics I had written based on what I heard him singing are correct. I put in question marks where I wasn't sure. If you have any idea let me know because I've listened to those parts over and over and it still is not clear to me. 

Also, now that I've listened to the song more this morning it seems different in theme to me than last night. Oh, the clarity of a hangover. Last night I thought it was about saving a friend or being frustrated by a friend's addiction issues but the more I listen to it now the songs seems to be more from the perspective of MUSIC. Like MUSIC is the main character and how the MUSIC you make feels about opiate addiction. Anyway, that's my take on it.

I tried to ask Doc about the lyrics and the theme and he just texted me back "whatever you want it to be'. Not helpful, dick.

Stealing from Open Mike in Portland

An Attempt at Gainful Unemployment 
[ad-lib, recorded live March 2013, transcribed to the best of my ability]

Marlene, Marlene
Oh the things you do to me
So mean, never nice
So mean, I say it twice

I ask for her lovin'
She won’t give me none
Won't take my gifts
Or answer the phone

She's got me movin' 
On the run
Chasin' me away with a sawed-off shotgun
She's got me beggin' just like a dog
Oh what did I do wrong?

Marlene, Marlene
Oh the things you do to me
So beautiful
But all her own

I flirt and I flatter
She just puts me down 
I smile right at her
She just wears a frown

She’s got me movin' 
On the run
Chasin' me off with a billy club
She's got me jumpin' just like a frog
Oh what did I do wrong?

Marlene!
Oh, Marlene!
Marlene!
Marlene!

Marlene, Marlene
Oh the things you do to me
You kiss my nose
Then take my dignity

You bruise my mind
Even bruise my shoes
Your active damage
Makes you the one I choose

She's got the brains
She's got the brawn
She's got the looks
She’s all I want

I ask her often
How I'd win her love...
She says I just need
To get a job

Oh Marlene why you treat me like a jerk
Got me lookin' through the paper 
Ads for work
Got me askin' for odd [hard?] labor 
Door to door
Got me beggin'
I can’t take any more

Oh where did I go wrong...
Where did I go wrong?

Marlene!
Marlene!
Marlene!

You got a sister...

[Mumbled] Can I have her number?

An Attempt at Gainful Unemployment [ad-lib]

Majority Report
[ad-lib, recorded in May '22, transcribed to the best of my ability]

Innocent right now
I know I'm innocent right now
You say that
Some saw me
Jar-handed, cookie-caught me
I know that
I'm wanted
The mob has passed their judgment;
My fault is common knowledge
So boy why are you stallin'?
Just say it
It's easy
Just say that you are guilty
Just sign right here
We need it...
But I don't want it 
I don't want it
I don't want it
I don't want it!

Oh right now 
Yeah, right now
You know I'm innocent right now
Tomorrow
You goad me
Might be another story

Oh right now
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now
Tomorrow
You push me
Do something make me guilty

Take the sheets off of my bed
Don't want me swinging from my neck
Take the belt off of my pants
The hangman's jig won't be my dance

You tell me
You caught me
Now got me where you want me
But right now
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now

You got me
Your wanted
With vaunted [haunted?] proof you've flaunted
But right now
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now

Cover my world with your bars
Go polish up your spurs n' stars
Take that pillow off my bed
So I don't sleep myself to death

[Chonky instrumental chords]

You tell me
They saw me
When lined-up that they'll spot me
But right now 
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now

You tell me
Be easy
Be better for my family
You mess with
My kindred
I'm gonna get delinquent

Cover my wounds with your welts
Take off my pants with my belt
And take my dignity as well
I'll see you all again in hell

Oh right now
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now
Tomorrow
You pushed me
It's time for me get guilty

Oh right now 
Yeah right now
I know I'm innocent right now
Tomorrow
I'm sorry
Gonna be another story

Majority Report [ad-lib]

Mr. Rogers Was Wrong (Apr ’08)

Can’t find something special I can see
Can’t find something great inside of me
Can’t find a way to comprehend
Anyway I’m different
There’s nothing special inside of me

Can’t find my own novelty
Can’t find that uncommon way to be
I feel a need to condescend
Any thoughts not like the rest
There’s nothing special inside of me

Everything you’re taught
Everything you’re told
It’s all true don’t you know!
So go ahead start your silly fuss
But there’s nothing special inside of us

Can’t find any uniquity
Can’t find a not to be to be
I’m better off if I depend
On the opinions of my friends
There’s nothing special inside of me

There’s no more ingenuity
So I’ll be the best copy I can be 
It’s easier not to offend 
I’ll smile and just conform again
There’s nothing special inside of me

Everything you’re taught
Everything you’re told
It’s all true don’t you know!
So ask your silly questions if you must
But there’s nothing special inside of us
There’s nothing special inside of us…

[Instrumental Chords]

Go ahead and tell me that I’m wrong
That you’ll make your mark 
Before you’re gone
Just don’t ask me to apprehend
The thief that stole your difference
Everything special has been done

It’s time you faced reality
It’s time you realized the truth
It’s time you finally comprehend
There’s nothing new of consequence
There’s nothing special inside of you

There’s nothing special inside of you
There’s nothing special inside of you.

Devil Child

Mr. Rogers was Wrong

I Don’t Know What It Is (Apr ‘98)

I don’t know what this is, 
I don’t know what this is...but I like it
I don’t what this is
I don’t know what this is what it is what it is

And I don’t who you are...
I don’t know what your problem is
I don’t know what you want...
I don’t know what you’re doing here
I don’t know who you are...but you are
You are what you are you are
And this is...it is what it is what it is

I don’t what you think you might
Grow up to be someday
You can be anything you want
If you want to, anyway
You can be a box full of rocks
Or a talker of talks on socks
Be made of sugar and spice
If you figure out what any thing is
If you’d tell me that’d be nice

Cause I don’t know what this is
I don’t know what this is...but I like it
And I don’t know what this is
I don’t know what this is
But it is...it is what it is what it is

I don’t know who you are
And I don’t know what you’re doing here
I don’t what I am
But I know the end is getting near
To finding out what this is...and it is
It is what it is what it is...and you are
You are what you are you are what you are
You are...and I am
I am what I am I am what I am I am
And this is...this is what it is what it is
What it is what it is...
And I like it

I don’t know what this is...
I don’t know what this is...
I don’t know what this is...
But it is.

Acoustic Punk

I Don't Know What It Is

How We End It (Apr 22)

We shut your 
Radio station down
Your radio station down
Your radio station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Radio station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

We shut your 
TV station down
Your TV station down
Your TV station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
TV station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

This isn't just about 
Your message
It isn't just about 
Your message
It isn't just about 
Your message
But how you send it

We shut your 
Relay station down
Your relay station down
Your relay station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Relay station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

We shut your 
Guard station down
Your guard station down
Your guard station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Guard station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

We shut your 
Train station down
Your train station down
Your train station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Train station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

This isn't how we started
Oh this isn't how we started
No this isn't how we started
But how we end it

All we ever wanted 
Was to be fucking free
So why can't you just 
Leave us fucking be?
Try to use your lies 
And hate speech 
To destroy us
Can't you see that that's
Fucking dangerous?

Well now the fuse is lit
And it's too late 
To retire or quit
Now the workers 
Are all pissed
And the bosses are 
Gonna have to deal with it

And, this time there's no way 
They can steal it 
This time we're gonna make 
Them feel it
And, this time there's no way 
They can heal it 
This time we're gonna make 
Them feel it

[instrumental chords]

We shut your 
Power station down
Your power station down
Your power station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Power station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

We shut your 
Police station down
Your police station down
Your police station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Police station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

We shut your 
Space station down
Your space station down
Your space station down
SHUT IT
We shut your 
Space station down
Yeah shut that fucker down

This isn't about the message
It isn't just about the message
It isn't just about the message
But how you send it

This isn't how we save it
No this isn't how we save it
We know this isn't 
How we save it
But how we spend it

This isn't how we started
This isn't how we started
This isn't how we started
But how we end it
It's how we end it [x3]

How We End It

Your Turn to Throw the Molotov (March '22)

[acapella intro]
[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2

[instrumental chords]

[with guitar]
[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2

Mommy will go first
Daddy took his turn
Grifters getting blisters
Cause of how their 
Bullshit burns

Brother with his bat
Keeps the fascists at bay
Sister Mary dropped 
Off a case
Then she drove away

She said:
[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2






We're doing it for 
Dead Unions
For all the New Slaves
Doing it for the Dispossessed
Those buried in mass graves

Doing it for the Used
The Broken and the Freaks
Doing it for the world
'Cause this is what it takes

They said: 
[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2

The cops are out 
To murder us
Cops are out to bury us
Cops are out to fuck us up
Make sure our eyes 
Burn us

Politicos unseat us
Federales beat us
Immorales point us out
So Mercenaries kill us

Insecurity's holding us down
The right is bleeding us out
New laws are sorting us now
Old freedoms 
No longer allowed
The left is eating itself
While judges make us 
Breeding cows

And the priests are still
Raping us now

Their boots 
Would stomp us into powder
Their boots
Might grind us into powder
Their boots 
Could stomp us into powder
Unless we show them 
We have power

Their boots 
Won't stomp us into powder
Their tanks 
Can't grind us into powder
Their boots 
Can't stomp us into powder
Cause we're the ones 
With the power

So I say...
So I say:

[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2

[acapella outro]
[Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov
Your turn, throw the Molotov] x2

Your Turn to Throw the Molotov

A Former Bounty Hunter Frantically Works the Keypad to Free Subject X from Area 51 
(ad-lib, Sept '23 - note, some of these are really hard to hear but I did my best to transcribe them...)

Saw you walkin' on the highway north
Saw you walkin' but I didn't tip Score
Counting steps up to heaven to
See the rain
But we need 'em all the same
Need 'em all the same

Gotta heat more
Come on gotta crate more
Gotta make more
Honey, gotta make more
Don't got enough yet
Don't got enough

Here we go again, it's another best friend
There we go again, it's another cut tether
There we go again, it's another lost friend
There we go again
It's returned to sender

Don't need a pocket watch
Don't need a pocket watch
Do I?
But I'll crate a friend
I don't need no
Dial-up report
Gotta see more
Wanna raise a friend
My deport
My report's chillin'
He's refrigerated
I don't need a callous 
Or the key card
I don't need 
An alien

Here we go again, it's another lost friend
There we go again, another reject letter
There we go again, it's another lost end
There we go again
We return to sender

If you'll wait
Why won't you wait for me?
If you're already waiting
Why won't you wait for me?
If you're already waiting
Why won't you wait for me?
Am I too far gone?
Am I already
In the deep end?

[instrumental chords]

It's a retile
It's a free four war
It's a fevered 10
I don't need 
Don't need no brother
Don't need a brethren
Got a crate card
Got a free port blazin'
Now I'm brazen
Dial T-4
Gotta rate for the shrivel
Of an alien

Here we go again
It's another lost friend
There we go again
It's another lost letter
There we go again
It's another lost friend
There we go again
It's returned to sender
Return to center
Returned to sender

Return to Sendar

A Former Bounty Hunter Frantically Works The Keypad To Free Subject X From Area 51 [ad-lib]

A song about how Doc makes music, I think.

A Diatribe On The Overuse Of Electronic Effects In Modern Music

Gay for Riker (Feb '22)

[Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker that's right
Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker] x4

Riker's so clean
I think he's really hot
And I really wanna have
His babies

The only problem is
When I watch him on Trek
He really seems to love
The ladies

Normally I'm good
With gals in boy clothes
A bent boxer's nose
And torn pantyhose

But I really like 
Those Star Trek fights
When Riker does his thing
I really wanna

Hunh---

[Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker that's right
Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker] x3

What did you hear?
Don't mean to be weird
He's gotta have a beard
Or too young for me

Don't get annoyed
I'd be his betazoid
Maybe then he'd
Take some tongue from me

It's save him from Lanel
Like she saved him from science
I'd save him from Beata
Teach her some Pride n' defiance
I might not have 
Deana's rack
But I got my lust 
That's a fact

[Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker that's right
Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker] x4

Even when fighting a crystalline entity
He has time for love
Maybe after chasing all these little girls
He's ready to man up...
Yeah, ready to man up...

May...be?

[Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker that's right
Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker] x4

I know he likes it freaky
Hey, Minuet's a hologram
Even if agendered
He won't refuse my love command

And I would totally enlist
Take a trip, ride on his ship
Won't hook him on any games
Or assassinate a diplomat

He's got maneuvers of his own
But mine involve shakin' my ass
Enough to make Ro Laren blush
And mine don't involve toxic gas

Much.

[Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker that's right
Gay for Riker that's right
I'm gay for Riker] x4

Gay for Riker

Gay For Riker

I Am My Own Filk Circle 
(ad-lib, April '22)

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you...

Yeah, singing your favorite songs
Sittin' round, everyone getting along
Tellin' me how you're right
Tellin' me how I'm fucking wrong

Well I'll sing my own songs
Even if no one else sings along
I don't need a way
To belong

Cause...
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you...

Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you...

[instrumental fill-in part – maybe thinking of things to sing here?]

Yeah I guess I might be wrong
I know I come on a little strong
I hear what you say
I hear: “It's okay...”
Might be nice to belong

And yeah I guess you sing alright
And yeah I see you dancin' all night
But I don't know why 
Why should I even try?
I don't know what or how I would even try

Look, there's some things that I believe
That will not be well received
Fandom's not known for it's empathy
And they're more likely to shit on me

Like that I think Luke ain't his father's son
That's right I think it ain't Darth it's Obi-wan
Secretly he and Padme got it on

But if it's Star Wars theories
Or Star Trek pornography
Stargate alt histories
You'll all be fucking mad at me
So it's easier if my circle is just me

So...
[REALLY FAST!]
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!

I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
I am my own filk circle
Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you..

Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you..

Fuck you...fuck you...fuck you...

I Am My Own Filk Circle [ad-lib]

here is the original reddit thread where my idea for Doc came from:
https://www.reddit.com/r/FolkPunk/comments/1c1j356/comment/kz7lmuz/?context=3

Lyrics: (as far as I can tell)

Cock Rot Is No Fun [ad-lib, April '24]

Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Can't afford
No medication
Cock rot
Idn't no fun

Just wait just wait just wait
Till the itching starts
Wait just wait just wait
Till the skin comes apart

Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Maybe getting it was fun
Don't know
Met a girl
At the show
Or a boy 
You thought looked terrific
In the waiting room
At the STD clinic
Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Get yourself
Some medication

Just wait just wait just wait
Till the swelling grows
Just wait just wait just wait
Till the smell gets gross

[instrumental chords]

Man I wish I had insurance
Man I wish I had assurance
That this would go away someday
Gotta find a way to pay
Man I wish I could afford some pills
To treat my illness n' forget my ills
But instead I got a rotting crotch
A throbbing spot that's sobbing snot

Cock rot
Idn't no fun
Crotch rot
Idn't no fun
Got myself
An infection
Can't afford
No medication
Can't even
Lightly touch my junk
Crotch rot
Idn't no fun

Just wait just wait just wait
Till the blisters pop
Just wait just wait just wait
Till the bleeding stops
Can't sit down, stand up, squat
Or there's pain in my crotch
Can't lay back, kneel down, go prone, Supine, Fowler's, Trendelenberg or Laterally recumbent...
Can't even pee

It hurts just being me
It hurts just being me

Cock Rot Is No Fun

Cock Rot Is No Fun [ad-lib]

Is it folk punk?
This is folk punk?
Is this folk punk?
Is it folk punk?

Is it folk punk?
Isn't folk punk?
Is it folk punk?
Isn't folk, punk?

Hate my
Hate myself again

Got my rebel tones
Got my hate high
Got my system
Got my sweet eye
Got Amphetamine
Nothin’ tastes right
Got my Ketomol
That’s the scene, right?

Got my hobo clothes
Got my one shoe
Got my wiggletoes
Got my “Hey, RUDE”
Got the guillotine
Brought the scene by
Got my Demerol
Have you seen my--

Hate?
My Hate?
Myself again…
Hate my
Hate myself again

Got my rebel rules
Drop my hate in
Got my turpitude
Cropped and faded
Lick my brittle tongue
Call me “baby”
Got my metal tongue
Here's my payback
Wait my worth in gold
Got no money
Just the standard tools
And my cunny
Got my two by two
And my cockrot
Only seventeen
In my cold cot

Hate my
Hate my
Self again

Hate my
Hate my
Self again

Hate my
Hate myself again
Hate my
Hate myself again

Got my attitude
Got my head high
Got my Rattle towed
Got my red eye
Got my sanity
Comes with saltines
Got my ripped jeans
And by carbines
Psi-chotic
You know why
In the Imipramine
Then I’m the cold guy
It’s a riddle to you
How I’m the cool guy
Never wanna
Be in love
To save my--

Hate
My Hate?
Myself again…

Oh why we gotta be playing these games?
Why we gotta play these games?
Why we gotta be playing these games?
They’re all fucking games

Why we gotta be playing these games? 
Why we gotta be playing these games?
Oh games
You know they’re all games
They’re all games

Got my muzak
Got my head high
Got the riff raff
Got my lead eye
Got my little chain
Got my ready can
Got this pseudo scene
In my soft hands
Got my hoody hair
And my hall rights
Got my serpentine
In the cold night
Got my riddled teen
And my sharp knife
Got my whittled god
And my Soma

Hate you
Hate you
Elegant

Hate you
Hate you
Yet again

Hate you
Hate you
Hate you
Hate you
Hate you
Hate you

Hate myself
Again

Here is the reddit thread that inspired me to use my puppy dog eyes (a.k.a. fucked-up pug face) to convince Doc to make this song: https://www.reddit.com/r/FolkPunk/comments/1cia5mn/is_sitting_backwards_on_a_chair_to_better_relate/

Is Thie Folk Punk?

Is This Folk Punk? [ad-lib]

So Prove Me Wrong Then [ad-lib*, May 2024]

I got nothing new to say
Our civilization just withers away
Infrastructure
Persists in its collapse
Our environment 
Just turns to ass

If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucking fucked

[Spoken:] Try it again!

If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucking fucked

[Spoken:] There we go...

Everyone plays pathetic games
While inhumanity just makes it's gains
Our crisis response is inhumane
While the privileged few 
Just fan the flames

If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucking fucked

What you think your gonna do?
Have their methods ever worked for you?
You think it's gonna change by
Marching in the streets?
Clapping your hands
And stomping your feet?

Change will only come
With a radical shift
But none of us wants nothing to do with it
We'd rather watch skits
And pop our skin
Argue online
About stupid shit

Every year's always the hottest yet
Keeps on risin', closer to hell we get
There's no future
We gotta accept
We're just meat in line
To get processed

If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucking fucked

If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucked
If we're the last fucking hope
We're fucking fucked

Meanwhile I just wanna evade the cops
Score some dough to feed my tots
Music and drugs may be all we got
But its hard to shoot up
When yer getting shot

*lyrics for ad-libs are subject to interpretation as its the best I can come up based on what I can hear. I had a little help from a face book post that I asked Doc to base this on, hope this link still works: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=760196246151287&set=a.370934875077428

So Prove Me Wrong Then

So Prove Me Wrong Then [ad-Lib]

Hello and Welcome! 

I don't make the music. Someone who contacted me thought that was disappointing so I think I need to be up-front here. I am just his friend who likes his music A LOT and has permission to post whatever music of his I want here. 

He can make a song up about anything! He has songs about explosions, fire, Jeanie Jaslow's mom, and time machines. He has hundreds and hundreds of songs. He shits out songs all of the time. And they are all different (although some of the lyrics and themes are similar, to be honest). He can make fun of you in a song and put himself down at the same time. Everyone leaves depressed and angry. 

I am trying to post the songs I put on reddit and unreleased tracks from his albums here on Soundcloud. The rest of his music can be accessed through the website I built for him, doctormocker.com

[ad-libs] are songs that he made up on the spot. Whatever comes out of his guitar and his brain and his throat is... just whatever comes out. What you hear is what you get. Sometimes this actually works!

[instrumentals] are songs that have no vocals. Yet, still, somehow, are explicit. 

[acappella] songs are songs that have no music accompaniment except for him slamming on things like a desk or chair. But usually just his voice.

All the rest are "regular" songs. 

All of these songs are recorded live on an old, beat-up and yellowed Fostex 4-track, a barely-functional Panasonic tape recorder from the 80s, a cell phone, or, rarely, an answering machine. He spares all expense to give us that sweet, succulent, grimy, gritty, grungy and intimate low fidelity sound. 

If you want to know more or see some of his videos click on the Interwebsite link below or visit doctormocker.com. 

Thanks,

Lumpy :)

P.S. If you see likes on your tracks that's me liking your music not him. He is a grumpy, surly fucker who doesn't like anything, much. Not even himself. Sad...

Doctor Mocker

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