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lyrics

Uncle Morris
When it gets a little scary, with the winds all breathing hard,
with the papers and the subways, don't you want to fence your
yard? Hit the fridge and scan the cable, thanks the radio's the
same, maybe you should call up Charlie, catch a buzz and watch
the game. Where's the yearbook '86, check the lineup in gym
class, where's that little wussy Tabin? Jesus how you kicked his
ass. Caught outside the mall at sundown, never liked his clothes
or walk, 13 stitches, broken shoulder, man you should have
heard him squawk.
Arm yourself says Uncle Morris, meet me in the fields at night.
Bring along the Constitution, teach the children how to fight.
How about the pussy lately? Getting cocky for control. if you do
not have a Gold Card you can pull your own damn pole. At the
office don't be joking, now the cunt don't have to smile. You start
grabbin' and she'll sue you, set your ass in jail awhile. You can't
date without a rubber, you can't date without a line, call 900,
call 'em bitches, whores and dykes and then feel fine. Every
f***** homo downtown, every n*****, s***, and y**, every
jerk-off who ignores you, don't you want to flip your lid?
(repeat chorus)
Scan the channels, they're invading. Every TV show has more.
Arm yourself says Uncle Morris, then we'll show them what’s in
store. Can't they build a mall bi-coastal? Enter Jersey leave LA,
Micky D's in Pennsylvania, Baton Rouge and Monterey. Didn't it
once all ring familiar? Weren't the bells all bright and clear?
Why's the sound all getting muffled, like there's cotton in your
ears? Arm yourself says Uncle Morris, look out 'fore it is too late.
What the hell’s the country built on? Teach the children how to hate.
(repeat chorus)

credits

from Choochtown (20th Anniversary Edition), released July 19, 2019
Uncle Morris
Hamell, guitars & vox; Dare, bass; Paul Nicgorski, drums. Recorded in Nicgorski’s basement. Produced by William J Nicgorski & Hamell

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Hamell On Trial New York, New York

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