Everything Must Go

Let me put it this way doll
And I know it's getting late
I can tell from the planes of your face
That you're from out of state
But here in the Willows now here's the deal
Tomorrow's for squares

I don't mind the quiet
Or the lonely nights
I don't miss the funky attitudes
And I don't miss the fights
I lie on the couch 'til suppertime
And hunker down and read the Post
And that's when I remember the things I miss the most:

The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The Audi TT
The house on the Vineyard
The house on the Gulf Coast
These are the things I miss the most

I kinda like frying up
My sad cuisine
Getting in bed and curling up with a girlie magazine
Sometimes in the corner of my eye
I see that adorable ghost
And then ba-boom I remember the things I miss the most

The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The comfy Eames chair
The good copper pans
The '54 Strat
These are the things I miss the most

I had a little birdy friend
By morning she was gone
Birdie good-bye
Birdie bye bye

I'm learning how to meditate
So far so good
I'm building the Andrea Doria out of balsa wood
The days really don't last forever
But it's getting pretty damn close
And that's when I remember the things I miss the most

The talk
The sex
Somebody to trust
The Audi TT
The house on the Vineyard
The house on the Gulf Coast
These are the things I miss the most

I was scrapin' bottom
Groping in the dark
It takes a crusty punk to really beat
The mean streets of Medicine Park
So I shifted left and out of town
Then I clicked my heels and I doubled down to

Blues Beach, I'm frying
Sizzling in the merciful rays
And it's the long sad Sunday of the early resigned

I went to Central Station
To catch that early bus
They were gassed and runnin' in every which way
But unhappily not for us
Here come Trina

In the beginning
We could hang with the dude
But it's been too much of nothing
Of that stank attitude
Now they curse your name
And there's a bounty on your face
It's your own fault daddy
Godwhacker's on the case

We track your almighty ass thru seven heaven worlds
Me, Slinky Redfoot
And our trusty Angel-girls
And when the stars bleed out
That be the fever of the chase
You better get gone poppie
Godwhacker's on the case

Be very very quiet
Clock everything you see
Little things might matter later
At the start of the end of history

Climb up the glacier
Across bridges of light
We sniff you, Big Tiger
In the forest of the night
'Cause there's no escape
From the Rajahs of Erase
Better run run run
Godwhacker's on the case

Be very, very quiet
Clock everything you see
Little things might matter later
At the start of the end of history

Yes we are the Godwhackers
Who rip and chop and slice
For crimes beyond imagining
It's time to pay the price
You better step back son
Give the man some whacking space
You know this might get messy
GodWhacker's on the case