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Dead Kennedys

Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death


Police Truck

Tonight's the night that we got the truck
We're goin' downtown, gonna beat up drunks
Your turn to drive, I'll bring the beer
It's the late late shift no one to fear
And ride, ride, how we ride
And ride, lowride

It's round-up time where the good whores meet
Gonna drag one screaming off the street
And ride, ride, how we ride

Got a black uniform and a silver badge
Playin' cops for real, playin' cops for pay
Let's ride, lowride

Pull down your dress here's a kick in the ass
Let's beat you blue till you shit in your pants
Don't move, child, got a big black stick
There's six of us, babe, so suck on my dick
And ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, lowride

The Left newspapers migth whine a bit
But the guys at the station, they don't give a shit
Dispatch calls, "Are you doin' something wicked?"
"No, siree, Jack, we're just givin' tickets"
Let's we ride, ride, how we ride
And we ride, ride, how we ride
As we ride, ride, how we ride
Let's ride, lowride.


Too Drunk To Fuck

Went to a party, I danced all night
I drank 16 beers and I started up a fight
But now I'm jaded, you're out of luck
I'm rolling down the stairs, too drunk to fuck

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
I'm too drunk, too drunk
Too drunk to fuck

I like your stories, I love your gun
Shooting out cop tires sounds like loads and loads of fun
But in my room wish you were dead
You ball like the baby in Eraserhead

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
It's all I need right now
Too drunk to fuck

Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
Too drunk to fuck
I'm sick, soft, gooey and cold
Too drunk to fuck

I'm 'bout to drop, my head's a mess
The only salvation is I'll never see you again
You give me head it makes it worse
Take out your fuckin' retainer, put it in your purse

I'm too drunk to fuck
You're too drunk to fuck
Too drunk, to fuck
It's all I need right now, oh baby!
I'm melting like an ice cream bar,
Oh baby
And now I got diarrhea
Too drunk to fuck
Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, Yeah
Ooooohhh...


California Über Alles

I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles and never frowns
Soon I will be President...

Carter power will soon go away
I will be Führer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Your kids will meditate in school

California Über Alles
California Über Alles
Über Alles California
Über Alles California

Zen fascists will control you
Hundred percent natural
You will jog for the master race
And always wear the happy face

Close your eyes, can't happen here
Big Bro' on white horse is near
The hippies won't come back you say
Mellow out or you will pay
Mellow out or you will pay

California Über Alles
California Über Alles
Über Alles California
Über Alles California

Now it is 1984
Knock knock at your front door
It's the suede/denim secret police
They have come for your uncool niece

Come quietly to the camp
You'd look nice as a drawstring lamp
Don't you worry, it's only a shower
For your clothes here's a pretty flower

Die on organic poison gas
Serpent's egg's already hatched
You will croak, you little clown
When you mess with President Brown
When you mess with President Brown

California Über Alles
California Über Alles
Über Alles California
Über Alles California


The Man With The Dogs

I am no one
But I am well known
For I am the Man With the Dogs

I stare at you shopping
Watch while you're walking
Two dogs run around your toes

You turn around
Two eyes break you down
"Now, who does that guy think he's starin' at?"

Stop in your tracks
You're being laughed at
Your armored ego is nude

And I do and I do
Crack up cos I'm getting to you
I see you, I see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too

Down to your church
I'm looking for victims
Spell of the Man With the Dogs

I'll haunt you
And follow you to work
That ghost is back again

Creep into you
I won't go away
You're taking yourself too seriously

I smile as you frown
And turn to walk away
Your habits for all to see

I see a shrew, I see you
And the rodent things you do
You see you I see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too

And I'm gonna crack your mask
Yeah and I'm gonna laugh
Open wide....

Saw you again
You'll see me tomorrow
Curse of the Man With the Dogs

You may not like me
You won't forget me
Not safe even in Walgreen's

They've seen me
Ask your friends
"Oh, I know him"
Seen but I'm never heard by your lot

A stare
Is worth a thousand biting phrases
See how stupid you are?

I dare you, I dare you
To erase my laser tattoo
You see, you see you
And you're pretty self-conscious too

And I'm gonna crack your mask
Yeah, and I'm gonna laugh
What's inside?
Is it pubic hair
Is it cobweb air
I bet you just don't care

???


Insight

Who's that kid in the back of the room
Who's that kid in the back of the room
He's setting all his papers on fire
He's setting all his papers on fire

Where did he get that crazy smile
Where did he get that crazy smile
We all think he's really weird
We all think he's really weird

We never talk to him
He never looks quite right
He laughs at us
We just beat him up
What he sees escapes our sight, sight

We've never seen him with the girls
We've never seen him with the girls
He's talking to himself again
He's talking to himself again

Why doesn't he want tons of friends
Why doesn't he want tons of friends
Says he's bored when we hang around
Says he's bored when we hang around

We never talk to him
He never looks quite right
He laughs at us
We just beat him up
What he sees escapes our sight, sight

We're all planning our careers
We're all planning our careers
We're all planning our careers
He says we're growing old


Life Sentence

You used to be a partner in crime
Now you say you ain't got the time
Gotta get serious, gotta plan
Gotta pass those entrance exams

Oh my God!
It's your senior year
All you care about is your career

It's your Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence

You're squelching your emotions
All you talk about is old times
You don't do what you want to
But you do the same thing everyday

No sense of humor
But such good manners
Now you're an adult
You're boring

It's your Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence

The walls are closing in
You stayed too long in school

I'd rather stay a child
And keep my self-respect
If being an adult
Means being like you

Are you really you you you
you you you you you you
Are you really you?
No

You're a chained-up dog fenced in a yard
Don't see much, you can't go far
Pace and froth, you're getting sick
Run too fast it'll snap your neck

Say you'll break out
But you never do
You're just another ant in the hill
It's your Life Sentence...
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence
Life Sentence


A Child And His Lawnmower

Some clown in Sacramento was dragged into court,
He shot his landmower it disobeyed it would start.
Might makes right, it's the American way®.
They fined him $60 and send him on his way.

You know some people don't take no shit,
Maybe if they did they'd have half a brain left.

You know some people don't take no shit,
Maybe if they did they'd have half a brain left.


Holiday In Cambodia

So you been to school
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car
Thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl

Play ethnicky jazz
To parade your snazz
On you five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know
How the niggers feel cold
And the slum's got so much soul

It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear
Brace yourself, my dear...

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't forget to pack a wife

You're a star-belly sneech
You suck like a leech
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch
So you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you

Well you'll work harder
With a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son
What you need, my son...

Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack

Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slum's got so much soul

Pol Pot


I Fought The Law

Drinkin' beer in the hot sun
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I needed sex and I got mine
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

The law don't mean shit if you've got the right friends
That's how this country's run
Twinkies are the best friend I've ever had
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I blew George & Harvey's brains out with my six-gun
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

Gonna write my book and make a million
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won

I'm the new folk hero of the Ku Klux Klan
My cop friends think it's fine
You can get away with murder if you've got a badge
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won
I fought the law and I won
I am the law so I... won


Saturday Night Holocaust

There's a prefab building and a funny smell
Around the hills outside of town
Every now and then we wonder
But we shrug our shoulders and get back to work

There's a railroad there and trains go by
And there's people locked in cattle cars
And have you noticed the french fries at the A&W
Taste a little strange?

I drive down to the disco
Pompadour and pink lamme
I bow and blow the doorman
He parts the chain, says join the game

A quick line in the girl's room
To the bar for the electrodes
A coin into the right slit
Tape my temple and watch me go!

Blacks are banned 'cept on the records
h' life's a cabaret
Like Berlin, 1930
All I crave is my escape

Now I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I want your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
Slip my fingers down your Barbie-doll dress
Up and down your spandex ass

If I lit a match to you
You'd melt before my eyes
C'mere my pretty glow-worm
You look so fine to dance with me

The fly-eye lights are throbbin'
I'm burning up the floor
Whirling twirling
Close my eyes, no faces judging me

Now I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I want your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
Slip my fingers down your Barbie-doll dress
Up and down your spandex ass

A Hitler youth in jogging suit
Smiling face banded round his arm
Says "Line up, you've got work to do
We need dog food for the poor"

A scream bleats out, we're herded into lines
Customized vans wait outside
I'm getting scared of my new home
To Auschwitz condominiums we go
Oh no

But I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips
And I want your perfect Barbie-doll eyes
My fingers down your dress
One more time


Pull My $trings

Hold it! We gotta prove we're adults now. We're not a Punk-Rock band, we're a New-Wave band!

I'm tired of self-respect
I can't afford a car
I wanna be a prefab superstar

I wanna be a tool
Don't need no soul
Wanna make big money
Playing rock and roll

I'll make my music boring
I'll play my music slow
I ain't no artist, I'm a businessman
No ideas of my own

I won't offend
Or rock the boat
Just sex and drugs
And rock and roll

And here we go with
Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool... My Payola!
Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool... My Payola!

You'll pay ten bucks to see me*
On a fifteen foot high stage
Fat-ass bouncers kick the shit
Out of kids who try to dance

If my friends say
I've lost my guts
I'll laugh and say
That's rock and roll

But there's just one problem...

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star

Give me a toot
I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

Give me a toot
I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

And when I'm rich
And meet Bob Hope
We'll shoot some golf
And shoot some dope

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star

Give me a toot
I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star

Is my cock big enough
Is my brain small enough
For you to make me a star

Give me a toot
I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

Give me a toot
I'll sell you my soul
Pull my strings and I'll go far

And drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool... My Payola!
Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool... My Payola!


Remember, this was in 1980
Recorded live at BAM magazine's 3rd Annual Bay Area Music Awards at the Warfield Theatre, San Francisco, March 25, 1980.


Short Songs

I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs
I like short songs


Straight A's

Brain death, blind desk, school damage, straigh A's

Sixteen, on the honor roll, I wish that I was dead
Hate my Parents, I got zits and bruises round my head
Pressure's on to get good grades so I can be like them
Do my homework all the time I can't go out just then

People they ain't friends at all, they tease and suck me dry
Yell at me when I fuck up and party while I cry
I look so big on paper, I feel so very small
Wanna die and you don't care, just stride on down the hall

Suicide -- suicide
Read the paper, wonder why
Turn the light out, then you cry
It's you fault, you made me die

Touch me won't, you touch me now so frozen I can't love
When I was born my mama cried and picked me up with gloves
Girls, they kick me in the eye, want answers to the tests
When they get them they drive off and leave me home to rest

Hold my head
Make me warm
Tell me I am loved
Give me hope
Let me cry
Make me feel
Give me touch

The window's broken, bleeding, screaming, lying in the hall
I'm gone no one remembers me, a picture on the wall
"He was such a bright boy, the future in his hands..."
Or a spineless human pinball shot around by your demands

Suicide -- suicide
Goin' to sleep and when I die
You'll look up and realize
Then look down and wipe your eyes
Then go back to your stupid lives
Aw shit


Kinky Sex Makes The World Go 'Round

- Prime Minister's office, Prime Minister speaking.
- Greetings, this is the Secretary of War at the State Department of the United States... We have a problem. The companies want something done about this sluggish world economic situation... Profits have been running a little thin lately and we, we need to stimulate some growth. Now we know there's an alarmingly high number of young people roaming around in your country with nothing to do but stir up trouble for the police and damage private property... Doesn't look like they'll ever get a job. It's about time we did something constructive with these people... We've got thousands of 'em here too... They're crawling all over. The companies think it's time we all sit down, have a serious get-together and start another war... The President? Oh he loves the idea! All those missiles streaming overhead, to and fro... Napalm... People running down the road, skin on fire... The Soviets seem up for it... The Kremlin's been itching for the real thing for years. They want a little going-away-present for mister Brijnev Hell, Afghanistan's no fun... So whadya say?... We don't even have to win this war. We just want to cut down on some of this excess population... Now look. Just start up a draft; draft as many of those people as you can. We'll call up every last youngster we can get our hands on, give 'em an hour or two to learn how to use an automatic riffle and send 'em on their way... El Salvador? How 'bout Northern Ireland? Or a "moderately repressive regime" in South America? We'll just cook up a good Soviet threat story in the Middle East - we need that oil... We had Libya all ready to go and Colonel Khadafy's hit squad didn't even show up. I tell ya... that man is unreliable. The Russian had their fingers on the button just like we did for that one... Now just think for a minute - we can make this war so big, so BIG. The more people we kill in this war, the more the economy will prosper... We can get rid of practically everybody on your dole queues if we plan this right. Take every loafer on welfare right off our computer rolls... Now don't worry about those demonstrators, just pump up your drug supply. So many people have hooked themselves on heroin and amphetamines since we took over, it's just like Vietnam. We had everybody so busy with LSD they never got too strong. It kept the war functioning just fine... It's easy. We've got our college kids so interested in beer they don't even care if we start manufacturing germ bombs again. Put a nuclear stockpile in their back yard, they wouldn't even know what it looked like... So how 'bout it? I mean, look - war is money. The arms manufacturers tell me unless we get our bomb factories up to full production the whole economy is going to collapse... The Soviets are in the same boat. We all agree the time has come for the big one, so whadya say?!?... We all agree the time as come for the Big One!
- It's marvelous!
- That's excellent. We knew you'd agree... The companies will be very pleased.


The Prey

You're from out of town
I can tell that by your shoes
Flew in for the convention
Getting tipsy in a bar

You're leaving pretty late
Gotta get up in the morning
Thinking she's just too expensive
And you know you're...
Probably...
Right!

There's no one on the streets
And you can't find your hotel
You walk a little faster
- Someone's following you

The wallet-size bulge
In you double-knit butt
Has money for me
And maybe credit cards

You dart around the next corner
You can't look around
Quick now, fish for the keys for the door
You don't even know where you are

You walk a little faster
I walk a little faster
Sensing that I sense you
Now there's no escape
I can almost taste your dandruff
As I reach out for your face
- And I strike!


Night Of The Living Rednecks

Ray's guitar broke. No, we won't play Rawhide, won't play anything. We'll play the theme from the Dinah Shore show. Who wants to be Dinah Shore? Who's alter-ego is Dinah Shore? Oh, his fists didn't go up so quickly this time. Yawn... yawn... yawn. Put those headphones on, it's be-bop time.

I want to tell you a story about the last time I was in Portland. The night before we played at the Long Goodbye, I was walking on the street about 10:30 at night. A lot of people go to bed around here at 10:30 at night. And well, I was walking along when suddenly these jocks in this bright blue pickup drove up (It had KC lights, tractor tire, everything but the CB. It was a life-size Hot Wheels car for some dumb rich kid, right.), well they drove up to me and they yelled what dumb rich kids usually yell, "Hey, faggot", and showered me with some water. So, I stood there thinking, what a bunch of fuckheads and picked up a rock. Now, I waites, walked down about a block to where the Kentucky Fried Chicke is, on Burnside, and sure enough they drove around again. They said, "Hey, faggot, where's the neerest McDonald's?", I said, "I don't know" and they squirted at me again. So I threw the rock and put a nice-size dent in their giant Hot Wheels car. They screached to a halt in the parking lot of some department store, who's name I don't remember, it's up the street from Fred Meyer, and they got out their clubs and they ran after me, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you goddamn faggot, we're gonna kill you, you motherfucker." So I got in a phonebooth by the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside held my legs straight out like this so they couldn't open the door to the phonebooth. So they began charging the phonebooth, beating it up with theit club, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you motherfucker, we're gonna kill you, you goddamn faggot." I just looked at them. So, there was a crowd gathering by this time and these kids were standing nearby and they said, "Oh, look at him, he's insane." I thought, ah-hah, here's my way out. I yelled at them, "Take me to a mental hospital right away. I wanna be put away. Please put me away, c'mon, call the cops and put me away. Please put me away now!" They said, "Alright, faggot, we're calling the police." So they call the police. The police comes out and I go, ah, my savior, I'm away from these jocks. He opens up the door, "Get out of there, you", throws me up against the car, frisks me, shoves me in the back. Then he goes over to the jocks, "Now what happened were? It looks like we're gonna have to take him to jail but we got to have the full story first." So the jocks, who had an ace in the hole, ace in the hole [Take down on the bass, a little bit down on the bass. Yeah], ace in the hole, and they go, "Well, goddamnit, the motherfucker put a dent in my truck, a $5000 truck, right, so I got my club, I went out and I wanted to kill him. I want to kill him. Let me kill him, goddamnit, let me kill him." So the cop made them go home, and he drove me home, and he confiscated their club and my rock as further evidence. And I thought, so this is Oregon, huh? Tolerent Oregon?

Ray are you done with your guitar yet? He isn't done yet. So what else do you want to hear, I'm out of stories. That's a true story too, just ask Bruce Loose.


Recorded live by persons unknown at the Earth Tavern, Portland, Oregon, on November 19, 1979, while Ray was changing guitar strings.


Buzzbomb From Pasadena

Buzzbomb Buzzbomb macho-mobile
The road's my slave, that's how I feel
I cruise alone, I cruise real far
Shoo, young punk! I love my car

Cross Nevada at 110
Highway 50 and there's nobody there
The sign says, 'Next sign 30 miles!'

My pension comes
Each penny saves buys more escape from home
I'd rather cruise around all day
Than move into a home

Plow through rest area San-O-Lets
Splat! goes the lonely salesman
Still wanking in the men's room...

Buzzbomb Buzzbomb tape up loud
Lawrence Welk cranked up to 10
Faster faster in my car

Buzzbomb is my pride and joy
King of the trailer court
Waiting for a nice young man
Who'll love me for my car

Who tells me why I'm cool
Tells me just what I like
When I pretend he's here

Shred through Palm Springs across the golf course
Cops round here, scratching their heads
Flashing sirens, State Patrol... uh oh

They're scuffing up the side of my car
They're shooting out my tires
This ain't no way to go to heaven
Buzzbomb cornered at the 7-11

Shit! Damned!
Let go off me motherfucker
I wanna live by my rules


Dead Kennedys.
Klaus Flouride -- bass guitar & vocals.
East Bay Ray -- guitar & echoplex.
D.H. Peligro -- drums & vocals.
Jello Biafra -- vocals.

And
Bruce Slesinger(A.K.A. Ted) -- drums on tracks 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 11, 12, 13, 17
6025 -- other guitar on track 13 and 14

No need to go further!! It's just Tripod publicity!!
Pas besoin de descendre plus!! C'est juste de la publicité de Tripod!!