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The Laundromat of Sin
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A techno-pop-metal treatise on religion, politics, sex, pop culture, and throat lozenges. Oh so many throat lozenges. Contains what is, without a doubt, the best sing-along chorus I've ever written, and a cameo by Luke Ski.
comedy synth punk worm qu
Artist picture
Comedy synth-punk
Worm Quartet is a Rochester, NY-based band that forcibly staples punk and electronica together and throws them into a blender with hysterically twisted lyrics. They have been featured repeatedly on the Dr. Demento show, and had the most requested song of 2004 with the ex-girlfriend rant "Great Idea For A Song," collaborated with Sudden Death on the most requested song of 2005 "Inner Voice," and had the 2nd most requested song of 2002 with the anti-drummer anthem "Frank’s Not In The Band Anymore." Yowza. The sole member of Worm Quartet is a 6’4” 280-lb. bemulleted manic who insists on being called “Shoebox" and who poses by day as a mild-mannered software engineer. Worm Quartet is currently playing all over the damned place whenever possible to support the new CD "Mental Notes." More information can be found at www.wormquartet.com.
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts • Comedy
Charts
Peak #18
Peak in subgenre #10
Author
Crist / Crist
Rights
2010 Timothy F Crist
Uploaded
May 01, 2012
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.1 MB • 160 kbps • 3:33
Lyrics
The anti-fish from dildoland Is marching down a mucus strand That leads from Falco to Ayn Rand With stops at Chad and Spain While nine fat popes and two wet Jews Guffaw and grunt and fill their loos With milk squeezed from their underoos And carbonated pain A riboflavin travestry Goes up and down the tapestry That graces my new haggis tree By cowlight and bi-nightly And Christ the cumquat troubadour Has stapled omelettes to the floor And burned the bush from every whore Whose curtains were unsightly AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! A pox upon the vomit king Who brandished forth his ding-a-ling And then defiled everything With Casios and roses A pox upon the lying lips That promised me fried paperclips For now I'm eating beggin' strips And shacking up with Moses A pox upon this stupid song Which sounds too dumb and lasts too long As od'rous as a sumo's thong And worse with every stanza A pox upon the nipple tree That I've been growing rectally Since long division and E.T. Had sex with Tony Danza AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! Bony butter children sit and stare At a shredded Hustler reduced to porn specks But there's nothing in my underwear That can't be found in a box of Corn Chex And in the laundromat of sin Your soul is dry, but your socks are burning Did you wash your pants in rancid yogurt? Cuz it sure smells like the Tide is turning now A screeching wad of camel bile Is hurtling glumly down the aisle And genuflecting all the while Like Nerfuls at a totem And traipsing through the wiggling sod A sentient screaming curtain rod As subtle as a cattle prod Delivered to the scrotum The holy mane of Mr. T Was eaten by calligraphy Served with a side of sodomy And doom and gloom and presage So graft potatoes to your brain And lubricate a whooping crane Hello there, I'm John McCain And I approve this message AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
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