Puppet History

Season 4

PUPPET HISTORY!  (all songs)

A stone’s throw west of nowhere
They've got a golden crop they tend to grow there
Well it’s the sweetest treat
a six foot bird could ever eat
We’ll risk our necks
For a couple more pecks
Of your worthless wheat

Put up a fence and try to keep us out
We’ll plow right through it with balletic leaps and bounds
There’s no defense you’re raisin'
That’ll stop us from our grazin'
There's piles of wheat for
Em-you and me!

No pain, no grain
That’s the name of the game
We choose to chew
That’s how emu do
We snack, they attack
We run away then come right back
Try to kill me I dare you
Do it
DO IT

Shoot us,
Pursue us,
You can drive a truck right through us!
Riddle us with bullets
As we stuff our skinny gullets
Pop a slug right in my skull!
But not until my belly’s full
Kill my family, merc my friends
But the buffet will never end

And I commend you blokes for tryin'
But we simply have no fear of dyin’
It’s agricultural plunder
Until we’re six feet down under

One more time for all our dead rotting friends!

Shoot us,
Pursue us,
You can drive a truck right through us,
(No pain, no grain!)
Pump us full of lead
But make sure you aim for our wobbly heads
(We choose to chew)
There's pile of wheat for em-yooou and me!

Six Feet Down Under

Hey!
Are you tired of bein' sad?
Wish you had more than you have?
You get the notion everybody else
Is keepin' secrets from ya and you got a hunch that they’ve all found a way

Some kinda universal key
How can you possibly compete?
Well lemme tell you something that’ll help
Just open up that notes app and jot down exactly what I’m bout to say

And keep in mind I’m nothin more than
A chest of anthropomorphic
Gold and I do not possess a brain

Just be the richest man in the world
And watch your problems disappear
And you won’t need nobody
Let the gold wipe away your tears

And if you’re askin me
"How doooooo I do that?"
Uh, well, I don’t know

But if my man Mansu Musa
Can acquire that much boodle
Then it seems to be attainable
If you apply your noodle
Have you thought of trading Funko Pops
Or smugglin precious jewels
Or you could just be a piece of shit
And steal a golden stool

Idk, you’ll figure it out

Just be the richest man in the world
Make sure you’re never satisfied
Spend all your days n night
Chasin that money until you die

(Just Be) The Richest Man In The World

Wakin up in the mornin
Drag your ass on outta the bed
Got a little somethin somethin
A-thump a-thumpin up in your head
Your ass is all clammy
Spots poppin up a freaky color of red
Catch yourself in the mirror
Lookin only slightly better than dead

You vomit, brush your teeth
And then you vomit once more
Then drain all of the fluid
From your freshly sprouted sores
Thermometer is tellin you
One hundred and four (THAT'S HOT!)
My dude you’re on your way
To rap-a-tap-a-tappin at death’s door

You got the pox!
Uh oh! Oh no no no
Not sure how best to console ya
But ya got the variola 
And you’ll probably die
But hey
On the bright side
You got a couple new friends
Who will be with you til the end
Count on us 
Scabs n pus

People can go viral 
In a myriad of ways
Unboxing vids, getting kicked in the nuts
Or tweetin shitty takes
But you picked the one that’ll leave you dead in 
Seven to seventeen days
Tis the reason for your lesions
And excruciating pains

You got the pox!
Whoops, yep you do— 
And if you think you’ve had enough then
Just wait til those blisters slough and
Sure you’ll probably die
But hey
On the bright side
You got a couple new friends
Who will be with you til the end
Count on us 
Scabs n pus
Look at us
Scabs n pus

You Got The Pox!

Well there ain’t no better way to
Pass the tick tick tickin of the unrelenting march of time
Then flip flip flippin through a book like me
Why don’t ya crack my achin spine
Ya never know
Whatcha gonna find

You can study astrophysics or ontology,
The migratory paths of albacore,
Can even master twenty languages and still have room
For every detail of the Punic Wars
You’d be surprised
Whatcha can fit in your mind

Go on and jot a couple notes about the Tundra stoat
Or the roamin’ of magnetic poles
Or bout how long it’d take a crusty ol Tyrannosaur
To digest your learned body whole :'(
How bout a chapter on the history of cobalt blue,
Or the spores of the Wattieza tree,
Or how ol’ Frank Hayes won a steeplechase
Back in 1923
You’ll never grow just knowin
Whatcha already know  

Read, please
I beg you to appease
Every single little itchin
Curiosity
Cmon n gimme a leaf

Well you can read so much that you can spout
All hundred fifty four of ol’ Bill’s sonnets off the top of your head
And you can read so much the cowards
Of this world will hunt you down and lock you up til they shoot you dead

In any case
It’s nice to be well-read
(BOOKS)

Read, Please

Here left to lurch
Twixt two lovely swaying birch
Trees: Igor of Kiev
Husband to a wife
Who would face near any strife
To avenge his savage death

Olga
She murdered the whole town
We frankly are surprised
She hasn’t thought to chop us down

Olga
Sainthood she attained
But to cross her is to doom yourself
To join the countless maimed

She’ll off your family, Merc your friends
She’ll hunt your cat and dog and when
You think she’s finally calling it a day
She’ll catch you when you’re unaware
Pour acid down your underwear
And laugh because she’s jokerfied that way

She’ll lop your toes into a jar
And pack it up and mail it far
And on your grandma’s birthday she will find
A bloody box addressed to her
Containing nothing less than your
Ten piggies and she’ll lose her god damn mind

Olga
She may be a saint
But rightly pissed to see her sweetie
Split right up the taint

Olga
Legit she’s got no chill
Piss her off if you’d like
To experience being killed

She’ll simply make you poop your pants
That’s right she’ll make you poop your pants
And if you’re think that you won’t poop your pants
Just wait because you’ll poop your pants
Because she’ll make you poop your pants
And kill you once you’ve pooped your poopy pants

You’ll hear a knocking at the door
And when you ask who’s there to your
Relief it’s just your neighbor Joan Calhoun
You open up
IT’S OLGA! FUCK!
She’ll kick your shins and punch your nuts
Then skin you while she sings a happy tune

She’ll slit your throat like that one scene
In Gone Girl, know the one I mean
Where NPH is-- well, you get the gist
If it’s not clear the message here
Is if you hold existence dear
Make sure you don’t end up on Olga’s list

OLGA!

Tell ya what I think it sure is fun
To make people die
You should see how friggin funny ya look
When the lights go outta your eyes

And man I miss that ol Bubonic Plague
What a treat, what a hoot, what a gas!
Seein pigs eat bodies in the street
TBH, it kinda kicked ass

And sure I worked my fingers to the bone
Bodies here, bodies there, bodies everywhere
Lumpy people dropping left and right
The putrid smell of rotting flesh in the air

All good things come to an end
And to be honest, I needed a rest
But I’ll never forget how great it felt
To cash that overtime check

Plague Days (Y.O.D.O.)

Yeah it’s me
That big pile of diamonds
I’m that pricy ice
Oh but I’d look so nice around that neck

Marie Antoinette she didn’t want me
She told me to my face that I was ugly
But I guess in the end I got the upper hand
Because they didn’t cut my head off 

And sure, they hacked me into tiny pieces
A devastating thing for all my nieces
And yes necklaces can have nieces
When they’re anthropomorphic

I was just a pile of jewels
Made Rohan look like a fool
But a fella should know better
Than to trust a simple letter

So I guess if there’s a lesson
To this whole backstabbing mess than
It’s that if you think you know the queen
To make sure that you know the queen

Like, has she ever talked to you?
Or looked at you or smiled at you?
Or even seemed to think of you?
Or met you in the daytime?

Maybe ask her for a license
Or to pose with today’s paper
And if she doesn’t want to
Then my dude I think it ain’t her

Pricy Ice

Human flotsam
Ain’t two words, that ya likely like to see

Oh but a sneaky German U-boat
Left a nasty little present
For the ol’ Britannic and me

Well I’m a propeller
Ain’t a violent feller
Choppin people up
ain’t my scene

Oh but Iceberg Charlie
Put the pedal to the metal
And what happened
Still haunts my dreams

Oh-well-a chop chop chop!
And-a scream scream scream!
Bodies floating in the sea
A-chop chop chop!
And-a scream scream scream!
HOW’D THIS BLOOD GET ALL OVER ME!!!!!

I’m a propeller
An awfully sorry feller
And all I ever wanted was a life of luxury
But World War One it ruined my fun
My life is misery

Propeller's Lament

I’m god
Okay?
I’ve got something to say
Those dummies dancing half to death
That wasn’t me, no way

I made the stars and moon and sun
And also I made everyone
Like Genghis Khan, Celine Dion,
All dogs and cats, fruit bats, your mom

And sure some people worship me
But then I did make everything
Like Jupiter and Tupperware
And Diet Coke and teddy bears

But I didn’t make those people dance 
Oh way back when in olden France
I’m not that guy, that’s not my scene
You think that I would be so mean?

And sure I killed their crops for years
And preyed upon their deepest fears
Of squalor, plague, no food to eat
But dancing? Man, that’s not my beat

Know what, I lied, it’s all on me
I got those dingbats to their feet
Boy they could really jitterbug
But when they died I pulled the plug

So what, big whoop, who cares, come on
It’s not the worst thing that I’ve done!
Like bed bugs, pinkeye, Tampa Florida
And also the rest of Florida

So yeah I made those people dance 
Oh way back when in olden France
I’m sorry I know it was rude
I guess I’m just a zany dude

Didn't Make 'em Dance

Choo choo
I'm a train!
Choo choo
This is the song I sing!
Choo choo
All abooooooard!

Y’know it sucks to be a train
Luggin' normie losers through the cold and the rain
Same path, same track, same route
The monotony’s enough to make a choo choo POUT!

But then one day you catch a break
Gonna take a VIP to the Old Line State
Uh, who me? Yes you. But who?
Well I’ll tell you who-
The soon-to-be president of the
UUUUUUnited states.
They call him honest Abe.
He’s got a funny little beard
And he’s lanky and weird
But he sure knows just the words to say

But then some racist dipshits	
Took out a hit and chose to sit and wait-
For the man they call Abe
And robbed this lonely locomotive of a real exciting day

And then all of my choo choos
Turned into nothin but boohoos!

Boo hoo
Choo
Choo choo
Boo choo hoo hoo
Boo Hoo!
Choo boo hoo
Boo hoo hoo
Choo choo hoo
Boo hoo
Choo choo