Edit from early 2016:  These lyrics were written in a different part of my life.  I realize that no one will ever see them, nor will they ever listen to the track, but in the event that you, a stranger, stumble upon this, I apologize for the homophobia.  They were tongue in cheek at the time, but they're still pretty rude, and it's not who I am anymore, but I won't take the track down, because it's a little nostalgic to me, and these tracks about my old boss were a big part in some really silly times in my life.

I realize that this is still a WIP.  I only did some of the lyrics, and I realize that the rest of the lyrics need to be written with some manner of sense and reason.

In case you were curious, the lyrics so far in order say:

EHHHHHHHH

If Rob sees a wang
His mouth starts its water.
Masturbate in the office.
Wear a blue shirt.

Rob didn't fuck the girls.

Lurk around the crowded bath house
Squealing, squeaking, sobbing tart.
Fix nostril tight to fuzzy asshole.
Suck deep manly, hearty fart.

Chalice to the semen chunky
Many squirts come sprinkle down.
Loud and tardly, deep guffaw
Jolly, crusty, spunk-drunk clown!

More on this later.

The Head Suite 2 with lyrics.

Lyrics:

I want it.
I need it,
I just have to have it.
Beer, my lust, my bride.
No DD is by my side.
Twelve down, now I'll drive.

No regard for life.
I’m pissed off and irate.
Doing 90 in a 30.
School zones have to wait.

FUCK!  Red lights
And blue lights
Are flashing behind me.
My fun is at an end.
Slowly, but surely.
I draw my gun.
I’ll shoot those bastards dead!

The primal joy of two dead cops.
In solace, now I weep.
My life’s purpose has been fulfilled.
And now it’s time to sleep.

I go the way, of those before me.
By my own hand I die.
No revenge for society.
Towards Valhall, I fly!

Recorded at work, this is the first of several tracks that I hope to make up a new black/grind album.

Drunk Driving is Cool and Fun

Rough copy of a new track for The Marigolds

Marigolds 1

Second new track for the Marigolds.  I'd better tune my guitar the next time I try something like this, huh?

Marigolds 2

Lyrics by Steve Beach:

Just like maintaining your car, a regular, professional inspection for your furnace is required to help ensure that it runs, so that its saving you money.

 No one wants to be dealing with a broken down furnace during the coldest days of the winter, so your technician will help pinpoint any concerns before it could turn into...

... a costly...

BREAKDOWN.



Due to the nature of oil as a fuel
Oil burner owners are hereby advised

To schedule annual maintenance to ensure
efficient long lasting equipment

Call well in advance to make an appointment
for the months of April to October.

Technicians will arrive from eight to noon
To perform the the following routine tasks

To vacuum the soot that tends to accrue
inside of the combustion chamber and

switch out the nozzle that draws in oil
and change the filter and strainer as well

Sign up for a service contract or you
will be charged for the maintenance TO DEATH

Your assets and children will both end up frozen
Death, he is hungry, and you have been chosen

You love us you need us, now drink down our semen
You're fucked, now we own you, cause we're fucking cleaning.

Get Your Heater Cleaned Annually

Yesterday, in the early evening, I told my friends that I was going to work, and I had only my Macbook and acoustic guitar to write songs.  I asked them what I ought to make, and we settled on a song that was both Chiptune and Black Fucking Metal.  It wound up being more chipper than frostbitten, and the acoustic guitar sounded like too much ass, so it wound up being just the VSTs on my Mac.

By the by, I did actually apply for jobs in between making this.  It felt like a weird juvenile/grown up deal. 

I hope you love it.  You can't imagine the fucklessness with which it was written.

LYRICS:

The only things
That matter to me
Are T.N.B.M.
And doing the thing.
But this fucking job
is keeping me down.
I think I just might
burn this shit down.

At some point in time,
this shit all went wrong.
Now I can’t tell
what to do all night long.
I need a new job,
and I know what to do.
While I should just apply
I’m out gathering wood.

I stalk on out back.
Through my job’s deep woods.
I’m not scared of trains.
I’m not scared of raccoons.
It’s not rained for days.
This luck is all mine.
Tonight’s my night.
Thank Satan, Divine.

Fuck life in prison.
I don’t give a shit.
I’m turning 26.
There’s no time to quit.
All my friends are at Mark’s.
Having a blast.
I’m stuck in this office.
It can suck on my ass.

Police won’t even notice.
Fuck all those pigs.
I’d kill them all too.
I’m that fucking ist krieg.
I’ll flee to my home.
Mount Pee Pee Nipple.
Flip on the T.V.
And hook up Mario 64.

I’ll use a few cheat codes
to get right to the ice level.
That one’s the best.
It reminds me the most of Norway.
That penguin better look out.
I slide like a motherfucker.
I’m fast and precise.
I’m the coolest and best one.

Mario! 
Six Six Six Sixty Four!
Mario!
Six Six Six Sixty Four!

Cool, Cool Mountain.
My bliss. My forever.
My solitude.  Fourth blessed level.
Collecting eight red coins.
Deep into the chasms of Hell.
I’ll find Lil’ Penguin.
I will lead the Snowman’s head.
I have what it takes.

I can go the distance.
I will find my way.
I will please black metal Gods.
I hope I go to jail in Oslo
for that wretched, burning office.
This is a serious threat.
Please take this as a threat.
I really mean this, idiots!

Mario!
SIx Six Six Sixty Four!
Mario!
Six Six Six Sixty Four!

UGH.

Mario (66)64

All of my friends draw Casper's Uncles on these stickers that we found in the trash once. While I'm bogus at that, I figured that it's best to add to this legend in the only way that I know how: thrash metal. Casper has every uncle that's ever been. He resides in all of our hearts, and in all of our dreams. I hope that this can help you find Casper too.

Lyrics:

He wakes up alone
In the harsh cold of the night.
Next to his own headstone
Not even Wendy is in sight.

Forever hungry, always thirsty
Bossed around by uncles.
Floats towards home with long dead tears
Growing weary of his troubles.

“Buck up, kid
‘Cause we love you.
Things aren’t gonna’ crumble
More than just
the Ghostly Trio,
Come meet all your uncles”

Meltcat wants five of your dollars
Leglam pukes up whiskey.
Wigwam takes two risky snorts
off his halfy then gets frisky.

Twiceasfun just clogged your toilet
Quimjaw’s acting thirsty
Thumpemhard’s lecherous holes
are filled with milk to bursting.

CASPER'S
UNCLES.
KEEP ON
UNCLIN’ x2

Desmond Spellman’s such a cunt,
We can help you kill him.
Wendy’s throne and fate are sealed
She will make the best witch.
Spellman is just like the cops,
so we should be his Dorner.
Wendy is alone and scared,
Caspolo go and warn her!

SUCK
ON OUR DICK’S
GHOSTLY DICKS
SPECTRAL JIZZ
YOU’RE A BITCH.
UNCLES RULE
WE GET LAID
MEET YOUR DOOM

Fatso, Stretch and Stinky
never were alone.
Ghosts are all just one big family.
And now you’re fucking boned.
Wumplemintz, Packed with meat,
KeepitonSexyCola
Krangle, Grabmine, WankitDown
Lipsqueak, Limberblowhole.

CASPER’S
UNCLES
KEEP ON
UNCLIN’ x2

Keep On Unclin'

Lyrics:

UGH

Early November, 
back in '76
A zoo in North Jersey
A day just like this. 

Beasts now set free
Left roaming deep woods
Interbreeding and spreading
Man’s nightmare come true

Corporate greed.
And negligent practice
Gave birth to these creatures
And magnified madness.

But back in their day.
Before they were freed
One perverse janitor
Laid with the beasts.

NINE MONTHS PASS
A LITTER OF PUPS
NOW FEND FOR THEMSELVES
NATURE FUCKED UP.

FORTY YEARS LATER
THE WOLF MEN SCATTERED
THROUGH RURAL PA
BEATEN AND TATTERED

Clad all in leather
These were-men ride
Their bikes on the banks of 
Susquehanna’s tides.

Thirsty for drugs,
good times, booze, and women,
They ride to Knoebel’s
As if it were written

Killing the patrons
Then fucking their wives
Licking their speed up
Straight off of their knives.
 
If you listen in
Under autumn night’s moon
You can hear their howls
Of cracked out were-goons.

PRAISE BE THE MOON
HAIL UP TO BELIAL
FUCK FAMILY FUN TIMES
CHRISTIANS REVILED

STEALING YOUR WALLET
TO SPEND IT ON PORN
DRUNK UNDER THE OAK
A LIFE THAT’S FORLORN.

FUCK

Beer, and meth, no limits, forever
METAL, TRUE METAL, TONIIIIIIIIITE

Party forever
These creatures of id
Hair of the dog
Then do it again.

Fucking and eating
and killing for fun
Blood stained patched leather
Concealed stolen guns.

Cops are all useless
Against the beasts’ will
A flash of the blade
Leaves them all killed.

Skating the park
And grinding on coasters
Shooting at trash cans
Then back in the holster.

WOLVES OF KNOEBEL’S x ad infinitum.

So if you seek vacations
That are free from admission.
Remember witches, trolls
And some basic superstitions.

Take your kids somewhere less shitty 
Like Wacken or to Deathfest.
And celebrate true metal
Put on your old patched vests.

For if you go to parks that suck
You’re in for a big surprise
You’ll stare out from your tent at night,
and see some bloodshot eyes.

Those wolves party hard
Harder than you can handle
Defy all laws by day and night.
Half lycan, half crack vandals.

MEAT FOR THE WOLVES.

Wolves Of Knoebels

Lyrics:

Taking Jim's mom out to butt lunch.
Out for a night on the brown.
Taking Jim's mom out to butt lunch.
She loves to chow down.

Taking Jim's mom out to butt lunch.
Out for a night on the brown.
Taking Jim's mom out to butt lunch.
She's a real chow hound.

(Butt Wife)

I thought it would be more insulting if it sounded a little bit like Dragonforce.

Riding the big bus to honk and squeeze town.

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