Blah Blah Reagan. Blah Blah Punk Rock.

by Responsible Johnny

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credits

released July 14, 2012

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Responsible Johnny Dallas, Texas

Imagine a unicorn that feeds you candy that tastes like rainbows. That’s how good Responsible Johnny sounds. Imagine Johnny Ramone coming back from the dead, punching Joe Queer in the face, and then making sweet, sweet love to him. Responsible Johnny is as powerful as their baby when it cries. ... more

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Track Name: Stomp
Six foot tall, in leather and lace
She’s gonna walk all up and down my face
She likes to romp
She likes to stomp
She’s gonna make me wish I’d never been born

She’s gonna turn me into a half pound of chuck
I’d say I love her but I won’t press my luck
She likes to romp
She likes to stomp
She’s gonna turn me into a holy mass of meat
Track Name: Cock Wig
Aw hell yeah, got my cock wig on
And I’m ready to hit the town
Gonna go out, gonna find me a girl
And we’re going to get down
Hey pretty lady, see you lookin’ at me
This model comes with a guarantee
I got my cock wig on
I’m buying the first round

Smooth as a baby when you head down south
But I know you’ll have a real good time
We’re gonna play a new game called “Hey, what’s your name”
I swear it won’t cost you a dime
Hey pretty lady, say you’re looking’ real hot
You’re about to get everything I got
The cock wig’s off
And you’re the next in line

Which one do you like better
The astroturf or the Cosby sweater
It’s warm at night and it’s light as a feather
I can feel you, I can feel you gettin’ wetter
Track Name: Flippers
Well mama loved her heroin
And mama loved her wine
The doctor said don’t do it
But she said I’d be fine
I’ll never be a quarterback
I’ll never be a star
I just swim around in my tank all day
I never get too far

I’ve got flippers
But I still ain’t got no friends

I’d rather be the dog faced boy
I’d rather be the geek
Instead of lonely flipper boy
The lowliest of the freaks
I’ll never be a strongman
I’ll never show my skills
I’ll never get a girlfriend
With this blowhole and these gills

I’ve got flippers
But I still ain’t got no friends

Last week I met a doctor
And he took pity on me
I gave him all my money
And he said wait and see
And now I’ve got prosthetic arms
And I can hold a gun
And all you guys that made fun of me
I guess you’d better run

I’ve got robot arms
Motherfucking robot arms
But I still ain’t got no friends
Track Name: Blah Blah Punk Rock
Blah blah government
Blah blah Reagan
Blah blah punk rock

Blah blah work
Blah blah school
Blah blah punk rock

Blah blah girlfriends
Blah blah skateboards
Blah blah punk rock

Blah blah food
Blah blah drugs
Blah blah punk rock
Track Name: Paranoid
Everybody thinks there's something wrong with me
I think my dad's in the KGB
And my mom works for the CIA
Making lasers to straighten out the gays

But I'm not paranoid
They're out to get me

And the government is trying to make me fat
But they can't get through my tin foil hat
And there's radio waves in my teeth
Trying to make me murder Toby Keith

But I'm not paranoid
They're out to get me
Track Name: Gimme Back My Smokes
Can’t smoke in a bar
Can’t smoke in the street
Can’t smoke in my apartment
In front of my TV
Can’t smoke on a plane
Can’t smoke in a loft
‘Cause all you motherfuckers
Might just start to cough

Motherfuckers
Give me back my smokes
Track Name: Punk Drunk Mouse
I'm just a country mouse
I went down to my city house
Fell into a glass of beer
Now my vision's not so clear

Record store right next door
Climbed up through the wooden floor
Black Flag t-shirts all for me
More punk than you'll ever be

I'm just a punk drunk mouse

Hangin' out at all the bars
I bought myself a small guitar
Started up a punk rock band
We play for cheese right from your hand

I'm a mouse, so pity me
I tried to get on MTV
Spent half my money on videos
The other half on whores and blow

I'm just a punk drunk mouse

I'm a little punk drunk mouse
I came down from the hills
I'll do anything to pay my bills
You might have seen me on Rock of Love
Or the Michael Jackson tribute
With one sequined glove

I read my contract
I know just how to act
I know just what you want from me
I read my contract
I know just how to act
I know just what you fucking want me to be

I'm a punk drunk mouse
Track Name: Trepanation
I’ve got a drill and some pills
And I’ve got a new plan
I’m gonna be a new man
Eighth of an inch then a pinch
Then I’ve got a new brain
It’s gonna drive you insane

I need your love just like a hole in my head
Trepanation
You’re going to love me or I’m going to end up dead
Trepanation

I’m all alone cracking bone
And you’re on my mind
We’re gonna have a good time
If it’s a must that I adjust
Then it’s a done deal
I’m gonna show you how I feel

I need your love just like a hole in my head
Trepanation
You’re going to love me or I’m going to end up dead
Trepanation
Track Name: Fucked By Penguins
Fucked by penguins
Fucked by penguins
Fucked by penguins
Ow, it hurts
Track Name: MSG
Monosodium Glutamate
I know it’s in my Twinkie
Monosodium Glutamate
It keeps my food from getting stinky
Monosodium Glutamate
It’s in my beef fried rice
Monosodium Glutamate
It makes it taste so nice

MSG, it’s not so good for me
But MSG, it’s just so tasty

Monosodium Glutamate
I know it’s in my Fritos
Monosodium Glutamate
I know it’s in my burritos
Monosodium Glutamate
It’s in my PB and J
Monosodium Glutamate
I eat it every da
Track Name: Ain't Fer It (I'm Agin' It)
You like Republicans
I like the Democrats
You call them heroes
I call them fat cats
Your favorite show
It really sucks
You won the lottery
But that was just good luck

Whatever you’re for
Whatever you’re inna
I ain’t fer it, I’m agin’ it

Your favorite band
They used to be better
You like tight jeans
And I like tight sweaters
You pray for peace
And I say drop the bombs
You like your dad
But I hang out with your mom

Whatever you’re for
Whatever you’re inna
I ain’t fer it, I’m agin’ it

Burger King (I’m agin’ it)
Diamond rings (I’m agin’ it)
Birds that sing (I’m agin’ it)
Everything (I’m agin’ it)
Track Name: I Didn't Shit Myself While Puking This Time
I didn't
Shit myself
While puking
This time
Track Name: Suburban Nightmare
I used to be cool
I used to be punk
Fucking everything that moved
And always getting drunk
But now I’ve got a job
And a 401k
And I don’t like anything
About my fucking day

I got a barking dog
I got a lazy wife
And i don’t like anything
About my fucking life
My neighbor is a douche
With an off white picket fence
Nothing in my life
Seems to make much sense

Spending every Saturday
Hanging out in malls
Watching pre-teen girls
And wishing that I had some balls
A body shop sale is not where I want to be
When Blarney Street is playing
And I just can’t get free

I used to spend my Fridays
Hanging out in bars
Knocking back some shots
And playing my guitar
I don’t recognize myself
I don’t know who I am
Whatever happened to that kid
Who never gave a damn