My name is Mud
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is mud and it's always been
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen
I dress in blue-yes navy blue
From head to toe I'm rather drab except my patent shoes
I make 'em shine, well most the time
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine
Six foort two and rude as hell
I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell
My name is Mud
My name is Mud, but call me Alowishus Devadander Abercrombie
That's long for Mud so I've been told
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold
I've got my pride, I drink my wine
I'd drink the finest except I haven't earned a dime in several months
Or were it years
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears
We had our words, a common spat
So I kissed him upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat
My name is Mud
Primus - Pork Soda Album Lyrics
Primus - Pork Soda Lyrics
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Welcome To This World
Oh, welcome to this world of fools
Of pink champagne and swimming pools
Well, all you have to lose is your virginity
Perhaps we'll have some fun tonight so stick around and take a bite of life
We don't need feebleness in this proximity
Ask good MacDuff and Donalbain, so many good ideas are slain
By those who would dare not step out of line
But if I have my way tonight and chances are I think I might-
I'll turn those sour minds to grapes of wine
[CHORUS]
Welcome to this world
Don't judge the boy by what you hear
The words are heard beyond the ear
The heart and mind are focus for this conversation
But be abound in mystery for that so much you do to me
For there are those who drown in adulation
[CHORUS]
If I had a dime for each time that I heard them preach
Well I'd have wicked thoughts upon my brain
Of pink champagne and swimming pools
Well, all you have to lose is your virginity
Perhaps we'll have some fun tonight so stick around and take a bite of life
We don't need feebleness in this proximity
Ask good MacDuff and Donalbain, so many good ideas are slain
By those who would dare not step out of line
But if I have my way tonight and chances are I think I might-
I'll turn those sour minds to grapes of wine
[CHORUS]
Welcome to this world
Don't judge the boy by what you hear
The words are heard beyond the ear
The heart and mind are focus for this conversation
But be abound in mystery for that so much you do to me
For there are those who drown in adulation
[CHORUS]
If I had a dime for each time that I heard them preach
Well I'd have wicked thoughts upon my brain
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Bob
I had a friend that took a belt, took a belt and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
His woman and his little bro came home from the grocery store
Only to find him dangling in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend who shaved his head
Put his Doctor Martins on
And drew such wondrous pictures in the apartment where he lived
He praised my creativity, though he spoke sarcastically
Oh, the conversations in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend that took a belt, took a belt and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
Rock, she thought him spiteful; Ler, he thought him pitiful
Me, I've never been back to the apartment where he lived
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
His woman and his little bro came home from the grocery store
Only to find him dangling in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend who shaved his head
Put his Doctor Martins on
And drew such wondrous pictures in the apartment where he lived
He praised my creativity, though he spoke sarcastically
Oh, the conversations in the apartment where he lived
I had a friend that took a belt, took a belt and hung himself
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived
Rock, she thought him spiteful; Ler, he thought him pitiful
Me, I've never been back to the apartment where he lived
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
DMV
I've been to hell. I spell it...I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean
Stood there and I've waited and choked back the urge to scream
And if I had my druthers I'd screw a chimpanzee-call it pointless
When I need relief I spell it THC
Perhpas you may know vaguely what I mean
I sit back and smoke away huge chunks of memory
As I slowly inflict upon myself a full lobotomy-call it pointless
Barbecues, tea kettles, gobs of axle grease
There comes a time for every man to sail the seas of cheese
Now, life's a bowl of bagel dogs, but there are unpleasantries
Cold toilet seats, dentist chairs and trips to DMV-call it pointless
I've been to hell. I spell it...I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean
I've stood in line and waited near an hour and fifteen
And if I had my druthers I'd screw that chimpanzee-call it pointless
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean
Stood there and I've waited and choked back the urge to scream
And if I had my druthers I'd screw a chimpanzee-call it pointless
When I need relief I spell it THC
Perhpas you may know vaguely what I mean
I sit back and smoke away huge chunks of memory
As I slowly inflict upon myself a full lobotomy-call it pointless
Barbecues, tea kettles, gobs of axle grease
There comes a time for every man to sail the seas of cheese
Now, life's a bowl of bagel dogs, but there are unpleasantries
Cold toilet seats, dentist chairs and trips to DMV-call it pointless
I've been to hell. I spell it...I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean
I've stood in line and waited near an hour and fifteen
And if I had my druthers I'd screw that chimpanzee-call it pointless
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
The Ol' Diamondback Sturgeon (Fisherman's Chronicles, Part 3)
The old diamondback sturgeon came swimmin' along
Minding his business one day
Rooting and sniffing and urging to spawn
In the mud flats of San Pablo Bay
A scent came around so he followed his snout
He found what was to his surprise
A golden morsel, a tidbit, a tight bunch of grass shrimp
Was there right before this buck's eyes
He circle round twice and he took a big whiff
Then sucked up this savory meal
Then came a jolt and to the diamondback's surprise
Through his lips cut the cold, barbed steel
In a panic the old diamondback sped to the north
He sped to the east, west and south
But the harder he swam, he still could not break free
From the "tugging" that pulled at his mouth
The old diamondback sturgeon came swimmin' along
Minding his business one day
Minding his business one day
Rooting and sniffing and urging to spawn
In the mud flats of San Pablo Bay
A scent came around so he followed his snout
He found what was to his surprise
A golden morsel, a tidbit, a tight bunch of grass shrimp
Was there right before this buck's eyes
He circle round twice and he took a big whiff
Then sucked up this savory meal
Then came a jolt and to the diamondback's surprise
Through his lips cut the cold, barbed steel
In a panic the old diamondback sped to the north
He sped to the east, west and south
But the harder he swam, he still could not break free
From the "tugging" that pulled at his mouth
The old diamondback sturgeon came swimmin' along
Minding his business one day
Writer: LESLIE E CLAYPOOL, REID L III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing
Nature Boy
I pull the blinds then I take my clothes off
Dance around the house like nature boy
My genitalia and pectoral muscles aren't quite what I would like them to be
But you don't see me
No one can see me
I pull my blinds
Fill out my income tax form
Pen in hand I write so legibly
I have my kitty. His name is Allowishus, I stroke him
But you don't see me
No one should see me
I pull the blinds
For the sun glares off my tele and I find it quite so irritating
I have my videos-loads of Ren and Stimpy
Bottom-a bit of pornography
But you don't see me
No one should see me
??
I've been persecuted since I sailed in through the door!
And I've been known to sing a song in 3 and 4 and 5!
And I've been gettin my ass chewed since the day I arrived!
Dance around the house like nature boy
My genitalia and pectoral muscles aren't quite what I would like them to be
But you don't see me
No one can see me
I pull my blinds
Fill out my income tax form
Pen in hand I write so legibly
I have my kitty. His name is Allowishus, I stroke him
But you don't see me
No one should see me
I pull the blinds
For the sun glares off my tele and I find it quite so irritating
I have my videos-loads of Ren and Stimpy
Bottom-a bit of pornography
But you don't see me
No one should see me
??
I've been persecuted since I sailed in through the door!
And I've been known to sing a song in 3 and 4 and 5!
And I've been gettin my ass chewed since the day I arrived!
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Pork Soda
Now listen up you know ya come home from working that nine to five and
lay yourself down on burgundy couch, you know, it never really was
burgundy. It was red, and you painted with the goddamn sprinkler and
now you have bits and pieces of burgundy stuck to your butt every time
you get off of it. You never tell your family, you never tell your
family because, you know, ol' Junior, he's got no brains, and what can
you do? What can you do?
[CHORUS]
Grab yourself a can of pork soda
You'll be feeling just fine
Ain't nothin' quite like sittin' 'round the house
Swillin' down them Cans of swine
Ha ha ha! Yes, Dad's an idiot alright!
Well, alright, I'm really starting to worry about you. You had to have
that two-car garage with the large driveway so you could park that
goddamn boat in it. If it wasn't for the boat (blah blah blah)
[CHORUS]
I like Kansas wine...
Well, maybe it's something simpler, like your team lost or your
girlfriend used to be a guy, you know, I don't know. I mean...(blah blah blah)
lay yourself down on burgundy couch, you know, it never really was
burgundy. It was red, and you painted with the goddamn sprinkler and
now you have bits and pieces of burgundy stuck to your butt every time
you get off of it. You never tell your family, you never tell your
family because, you know, ol' Junior, he's got no brains, and what can
you do? What can you do?
[CHORUS]
Grab yourself a can of pork soda
You'll be feeling just fine
Ain't nothin' quite like sittin' 'round the house
Swillin' down them Cans of swine
Ha ha ha! Yes, Dad's an idiot alright!
Well, alright, I'm really starting to worry about you. You had to have
that two-car garage with the large driveway so you could park that
goddamn boat in it. If it wasn't for the boat (blah blah blah)
[CHORUS]
I like Kansas wine...
Well, maybe it's something simpler, like your team lost or your
girlfriend used to be a guy, you know, I don't know. I mean...(blah blah blah)
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
The Pressman
By the light of the lamp I sit to type-my notes on tab at my side
I don't see the sun much these days
A fluorescent tan covers my hide
How much impact shall I have this time?
My goal today is to reac the deadline
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I report the facts
Give them to me, please
Ham and egg sald on white bread keeps me company on nights like this
A pack of metholated cigarettes keeps my air nice and thick
When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box
Get out of my way
I've got something to say
The pulse is beating louder now
The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each
Tik, tik, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys
My social life is at an end so it seems to be
Why don't I trample on your lawn today?
I'll take skies of blue, turn over skies of grey
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I am the pressman
Acknowledge me
Mother always told me never stray too far from home
The little lady said, "Boy, you'll never have to be alone,
Because,"
You build with fountain pen
You create the memory stain
You are the pressman
Stand up straight, boy
I don't see the sun much these days
A fluorescent tan covers my hide
How much impact shall I have this time?
My goal today is to reac the deadline
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I report the facts
Give them to me, please
Ham and egg sald on white bread keeps me company on nights like this
A pack of metholated cigarettes keeps my air nice and thick
When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box
Get out of my way
I've got something to say
The pulse is beating louder now
The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each
Tik, tik, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys
My social life is at an end so it seems to be
Why don't I trample on your lawn today?
I'll take skies of blue, turn over skies of grey
I write between the lines
I deal with fantasy
I am the pressman
Acknowledge me
Mother always told me never stray too far from home
The little lady said, "Boy, you'll never have to be alone,
Because,"
You build with fountain pen
You create the memory stain
You are the pressman
Stand up straight, boy
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Mr. Krinkle
Hello Mr. Krinkle
How are you today?
Seems the rumors are about your team might move away
Now, me I'm sentimental
But I'm not one to cry
Say there Mr. Krinkle let's cruise the Bastard boat
Damn then sonsabitches with their gill-nets set afloat
I flip on my tele and I watch the waters die
C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why
Hey ho Mr. Krinkle have you heard the brand new sound
It's a cross between Jimi Hendrix
Bocephus, Cher and James Brown
It's called "Heavy Hometown"
New Wave, cold-filtered, low-calorie dry
C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why
How are you today?
Seems the rumors are about your team might move away
Now, me I'm sentimental
But I'm not one to cry
Say there Mr. Krinkle let's cruise the Bastard boat
Damn then sonsabitches with their gill-nets set afloat
I flip on my tele and I watch the waters die
C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why
Hey ho Mr. Krinkle have you heard the brand new sound
It's a cross between Jimi Hendrix
Bocephus, Cher and James Brown
It's called "Heavy Hometown"
New Wave, cold-filtered, low-calorie dry
C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
The Air Is Getting Slippery
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The air is getting slipper and it's not to my surprise
My heart, it beats irregularly and the sweat it fills my eyes
I do not mind what I excrete 'cause
I'm here to make a buck
And those that cannot take the heat can take a flying...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The dogs are barking merrily as Jerry sits on high
If you've studied your Floyd property, you'd know that pigs could fly
Now if you want an encore you might hear it is luck
But me, I'd rather play Residents, 'cause I don't give a...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
Now, Fatty, he's a hell of a guy but he sweats like a dancing mule
He likes to hang out at Checker Gas with the Chets he knew from high school
He sold enough crystal meth to buy a stepside truck
But if you ask me twice I'd say the boy ain't worth a...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The act of perspiration is far beyond control
If the heat compels to aspirate please try not to miss the bowl
If sweatiness makes you horny, well darlin' I think you're in luck
'Cause all this clever banter gives me the urge to F*CK
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The air is getting slipper and it's not to my surprise
My heart, it beats irregularly and the sweat it fills my eyes
I do not mind what I excrete 'cause
I'm here to make a buck
And those that cannot take the heat can take a flying...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The dogs are barking merrily as Jerry sits on high
If you've studied your Floyd property, you'd know that pigs could fly
Now if you want an encore you might hear it is luck
But me, I'd rather play Residents, 'cause I don't give a...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
Now, Fatty, he's a hell of a guy but he sweats like a dancing mule
He likes to hang out at Checker Gas with the Chets he knew from high school
He sold enough crystal meth to buy a stepside truck
But if you ask me twice I'd say the boy ain't worth a...
Forgive me if I hesitate
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here
The act of perspiration is far beyond control
If the heat compels to aspirate please try not to miss the bowl
If sweatiness makes you horny, well darlin' I think you're in luck
'Cause all this clever banter gives me the urge to F*CK
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Pork Soda is the third studio album by the American rock band Primus. It was released on April 20, 1993, by Interscope Records and Prawn Song Records. The album was certified gold in September 1993 and platinum in May 1997. The 2005 re-issue comes in a digipak and contains a booklet with lyrics printed to nine songs, omitting "Pork Soda" which consists of a series of unintelligible rants.
Claypool explained the term "pork soda" was meant to refer to how Primus - a band that, in his eyes, wasn't suitable for radio play - was "an acquired taste, like a meat-flavored soda would be".
The album was performed in its entirety for the first time at the Fox Oakland Theatre on December 31, 2015.
Performed By:
PrimusClaypool explained the term "pork soda" was meant to refer to how Primus - a band that, in his eyes, wasn't suitable for radio play - was "an acquired taste, like a meat-flavored soda would be".
The album was performed in its entirety for the first time at the Fox Oakland Theatre on December 31, 2015.
Genre(s): Funk metal, alternative metal, alternative rock
Producer(s): Primus
Length: 57:40
Released: April 20th, 1993
Year: 1993