The Crab-Grass Baby Songtext / Lyric

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CRAB-GRASS BABY:

Stroke me pompadour, pompaduooor, pompaduooor, pompaduooor.

Stroke me pompadour, father. Stroke it nicely while I tell you about the

problems I am having with my car an my girlfriend. Ooo-wo-woo, the

white man's burden!



Her and her girlfriend used to go out and booze it up and tear up the

upholstery; rip the seats completely out, and so I got a fifty-six Olds.

About the time I got it running decently, she got in it and wrecked the

trans... tore it completely up, so I had to get another Oldsmobile

(either that or go to Tijuana or go to BROWN MOSES way down

in Egypt-Land). It's so hard on a child when his car is fucked up.

Buy me a Volvo, faaather.



HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

Isn't it terrific, artificial RHONDA!



CRAB-GRASS BABY:

One-Adam-Twelve... see the enormous white pompadour! Ha-Ha-ha-ho!

That's a good one! Hoo-hoo-hoo.






HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

He's so young, and yet, SO WISE!



CRAB-GRASS BABY:

I pooped my pants, pooped my pants, pooped my pants! I went doody,

faaather, sob-sob-sob-sob-sob.



HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

His vocabulary is astonishing!



CRAB-GRASS BABY:

So what if you suck a little cock every once in a while?



HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

Ohhh... I'm so lucky to have a son like this...



CRAB-GRASS BABY:

Barf me out... gag me with a Volvo!



HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

I can't wait to show him to all the fellas down at the MINE-SHAFT!



CRAB-GRASS BABY:

Take me to the movies. Buy me a balloon. Stroke me pompadour!



HARRY-AS-A-BOY:

Look! Look! Look at the pecker on him, wouldja! Goodjy-goodjy-goodjy-goo!

Hoo hoo hoo!



THING-FISH:

Dis boy have a 'PROVLEM'! However, how 'bout a nice round of applause

fo de three 'WISE MAMMIES', comin' atcha outa chute numba five!