[Intro]
(*instrumental*)

[Verse 1]
Pulled up slow to the drive-in lot
Popcorn, cola, and a backseat spot
She smiled wide, said, “Keep it low”
But her hand on my leg said, “Let’s start the show”

[Chorus]
Car’s gonna shake, babe, don’t be shy
Moon’s lookin’ jealous and the stars just sigh
We ain't watchin' Bond—no need to fake
Roll the windows up, the car’s gonna shake

[Verse 2]
Fog on the glass, and I lost my line
She’s whisperin' nothin’s that feel divine
The speakers squawk, but I don’t care
‘Cause her perfume’s doin’ all the sound in there

[Bridge]
I saw a flashlight pass real slow
Manager’s lookin’ for a scene to blow
I sank down low, she pulled me tight
Said, “Keep on rockin’, we’ll be alright”

[Chorus]
Car’s gonna shake, babe, hold your breath
You kiss like danger dressed in polyester death
Movie’s skippin’, but we got our take
Hold on tight now—the car’s gonna shake

[Breakdown]
“Back row special, windows steamed
This ain’t love—it’s a Technicolor dream
If they tap the glass, just play it cool
Pretend we’re lookin’ for a dropped Milk Doodle”

[Guitar Solo]
(*instrumental*)

[Final Chorus]
Car’s gonna shake, till the credits roll
We’re rewritin’ heat like it’s rock ‘n’ soul
Ain’t no stuntman—this thrill’s all real
She grabbed the wheel—now *I’m* the meal

[Outro]
(*faint harmonica, engine purr fades into the night*)

Car's Gonna Shake

[Intro]
We all love clubs, like Chess or Dance,
Where you wear a vest and wave your hands!
But there’s a club with signs and shouts...
Let’s ask our boss what that’s about!

[Verse 1]
Jimmy said, “Let’s all unite!”
But I prefer my solo flight.
He passed a note that said “Let’s strike,”
But I like bikes, not labor fights.

[Chorus]
Unions are just fancy clubs
With picket signs and protest hubs.
They talk a lot and march in rows,
But I’ve got stocks and TV shows!
You don’t need rights when there’s free cake—
Just smile big for the coffee break.

[Verse 2]
My teacher said we have a voice,
But I’d prefer the boss’s choice.
He gave me lunch once, that felt nice—
Why trade that for collective rights?

[Chorus]
Unions are just fancy clubs
With secret handshakes, chants, and subs.
They vote and plan and cause a fuss,
But who needs pensions when there's us?
Just sign this waiver, waive your say—
And we’ll upgrade your breakroom tray!

[Bridge]
They told me “Together we’ve got power!”
But I just got a sticker and a half-off shower.
I don’t need change, I’m doing swell—
I even got to ring the lunchroom bell.

[Chorus]
Unions are just fancy clubs
With meeting notes and slogan rubs.
If we just trust the CEO,
We’ll all get raises... kind of... *slow.*
So pack those dreams back in the van—
And wave your flag for “The Plan.”

[Outro]
So next time someone brings a form,
Just smile and say, “That’s not the norm.”
We’re not in clubs—we’re free and bold!
Now back to work... it’s getting cold.

Unions Are Just Fancy Clubs

[Verse 1 – Her]
I slipped past the curtains, heels on the hush,
Feathers all fluffed and a lipstick blush.
There’s a man at the bar with a crooked grin,
He says, “Come sit close and let sin begin.”

[Verse 2 – Him]
She glides like a rumor through the smoky din,
Got a flask in her garter and mischief in skin.
Says, “The law don’t know what the night has planned,”
I say, “Speak easy, baby—just take my hand.”

[Chorus – Together]
Speak-easy, baby, don’t say a word,
Let the trumpet cry and the sax be heard.
Whisper your secrets in syncopated time—
When lips do the talkin’, it oughta be a crime.

[Verse 3 – Her]
I said, “Careful now, sugar, they’re watchin’ close,”
“The mayor’s wife’s peepin’ behind her toast.”
He said, “I don’t mind trouble, I came prepared—
With charm in my pocket and gin in my hair.”

[Verse 4 – Him]
She leaned in soft with a molasses drawl,
“I play by no rules, and I kiss like a brawl.”
I said, “Tell me your name, or lie if you please,”
She said, “Speak easy, baby—I’ll bring you to your knees.”

[Chorus – Together]
Speak-easy, baby, hush your sigh,
We’ll dance through danger with a whiskey high.
The night’s too young for regrets or rings—
So come whisper low, and let the siren sing.

[Bridge – Instrumental Break]
Clarinet solo slinks through cigarette smoke… a lazy trumpet sighs... tap-tap-tap of a snare mimics a heartbeat

[Final Chorus – Whispered, then full]
Speak-easy, baby, don’t make a scene,
Let the rhythm slip where the silence leans.
If the coppers knock, we’ll vanish like steam—
But ‘til then, baby… we’ll live like a dream.

[Outro – Her, whispered]
“Keep your voice low... and your hands right there.”

Speak-Easy, Baby

[Verse 1]
He pulls up smooth in a big ol’ Packard,
White suit crisp and a tip like a dagger.
He don’t say much, just opens the door,
And I strut in like I own the floor.

[Verse 2]
I ain’t his wife, but I wear his rings,
And I only kiss when the phonograph sings.
He calls me “baby,” I call him “rich,”
And together we make one helluva glitch.

[Chorus – with backup singers]
That’s my sugar daddy! (Yes he is!)
Gives me pearls with a side of fizz.
I blow him kisses from the stage—
And when the check comes, I say:
“Keep the change!”

[Verse 3]
He says, “Doll, what d’you need?” I say, “More of the same—
More fur, more shine, more boys to tame.”
I don’t fake love, but I sure sell dreams,
And I look real fine in limousine beams.

[Bridge – Sultry, spoken]
I told him once, “Don’t buy my heart, just rent it.”
He said, “What if I throw in a diamond pendant?”

[Verse 4]
I ain't no fool, but I play one divine—
Pop my gum while I sip his wine.
He wants my laugh, he gets my pose—
I leave him swoonin’ and strike a prose.

[Final Chorus – big band shout!]
That’s my sugar daddy! (Ain’t no shame!)
Champagne tastes and a well-bribed name.
If love’s a hustle, I’m center stage—
And when I strut off, I say:
“Keep. The. Change!”

[Outro – Whispered with a wink, clarinet fades out]
“Buy me dinner, baby. But don’t ask for seconds.”

That’s My Sugar Daddy, Keep the Change (bonus track)

"Let Me Just Say This" is a brutally funny, no-holds-barred comedy album featuring seven comedians from Scotland, Mexico, Germany, Canada, Africa, Japan, and Britain—each delivering raw, unfiltered rants about what pisses them off most. It’s foul, furious, and weirdly noble, with every cent going to help end world hunger. We tried to get comics from more countries, but they all refused—probably because we let the German yell about IKEA and the Mexican call his boss a “cum goblin.” Their loss. Your ears. Humanity’s gain.

Unions Are Just Fancy Clubs

TW/SK

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