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Marching Backward
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Talkin' Compensation

"One trip to that place
You won't be the same"

Deadbeats & Greasers

Cesspool churnin'  souls burnin'
The Fall of '97
Charlatans makin' a temporal livin'
Showin' the way to Heaven
One of them was sayin'
The music down there
Will defile and deflower me
He said they play so loud
And the smoke in that crowd
Turns specimens lousy

Full of deadbeats and greasers
Dispensing their disease
Black Jack and reefers
Son you better fall on your knees

He said there ain't no correctness
In that place
They don't even know
The right way to walk
And they don't know how to look
Like gospel cats
Or a religious way to talk
And the frozen chosen
Wouldn't set foot there
It's a downright earthy flock
Maybe their misbehavior
Could befuddle the Savior
Maybe throw Him into shock

It's all about deadbeats and greasers
And Martin Woody and Keith
Black Jack and reefers
Son you better fall on your knees

One trip to that place
You won't be the same
I hate to see you take the chance
And the music they play
Gets inside your soul
You might even want to
Get up and dance
An old greaser asks
People what have you done?
What he's sayin' I know damn well
And don't roll the dice
With a man named Flash
You lose he might send you to Hell
With a parcel of
Deadbeats and greasers
Raunchy and sleazy
Jack Daniels and reefers
And Lisa make you stutter and wheeze
Son you better fall on your knees

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