Scurry! Scamper! Skitter! Scuttle!

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about

You furnish the audio and I'll furnish the war.

lyrics

"Judge Crater, call your office!"
Ugh, these codes are osteoporotic.
He's put in his time, but service means dick in times this chaotic.

We made our way to Coburn Gore, well north of the epicenter
And took a pharmacy with intent to fortify ourselves for the winter.

But blood pressure cuffs make decent restraints
And the pills had me feeling brave.
And I'd read all the insurance pamphlets hawking "coverage from jism to grave."

Our nominal leader never thought of dissent.
He's not worth his weight in wet garbage.
You leave your flank open when extending a hand
And that's how he fell to our bitch.

Being a good general's no different from being a cult leader.
Plant a worry in your followers' minds and reproduce it like a puppy mill breeder.

The radio's spotty, but it picks up strange things when satellites collide.
One night, some Japanese gobbling came through that I knew could shore up my side.

I said, "I intercepted an encrypted transmission that's proof they're behind it all!
And the captain tried to hide this from you!
Oh, the sheer, unbelievable gall!
They're plotting a bloody invasion 'cause they feed on the Western World's anguish.
They're pure evil—they don't even have a word for 'love' in their language!

"So load up on guns and bring your friends!
We're going on the offensive!
Put that stale Crunch 'n' Munch down!
This new training's gonna be intensive!
You never know who's a collaborator;
Who's your friend and who's a faker.
So we need to ensure we retain our roles as the sole job makers."

The more power I consolidated, the easier it got to scare 'em.
They cleaved to me and I had the pick of the chicks to plop in my harem.
We picked up adherents and prisoners alike.
We're the Little Militia that Could!
But when we happened on an Asian community, that's when the story got good.

"Don't think of them as human;
Think of them as animals.
They're terrorists and killers and, who knows, maybe cannibals.
Normally we'd infiltrate, but we don't have the right eyes.
So whoever brings back the most ears wins the grand prize!

"Scurry! Scamper! Skitter! Scuttle! 13 Mauve! Tagi Is Groggy!
Our firepower outmatches their ippon seoi nagi!

"Of course they'll splutter and protest, 'We're Chinese! Check our family crest!'
But chatting isn't how we do things in our new gilded West."

Most were shot, some became servants.
Kangaroo courts to show I'm fair.
They wept and wept and wept and wept, and the more they did, the less I cared.

"They wrecked our dollar, spoiled our water,
Probably to blame for those smells!
But we'll see how smug they feel when they spend their lives in jail cells!"

If my soldiers hesitate with the beatings and waterboarding,
All I do to gin them up anew is play this recording:
[Some kid yammering in Japanese.]

I forgot to anticipate just how whiny my followers got.
"Can you have your own tricked-out Brinks truck?
No, you absolutely may not.
No, we're not gonna rename all the streets and schools after your cats.
No, you may not borrow my slaves to work the birthday parties of your brats.
No, you may not have seconds, sloppy or otherwise.
All the strafing and flensing have made me impatient with your cries.
So get back to sculpting my likeness as a huge, radiant Horus...
While I'll stew about feeling like an incontinent ouroboros."

credits

from They Burned for 18 Days!, released June 3, 2016
Chris Willie Williams: Vocals, autoharp, guitars, programming, drums, keyboards, bongos, cracking ice

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Disclaimer Bangor, Maine

Disclaimer is multi-instrumentalist and music critic Chris Willie Williams. He writes black-humored electro-indie-rock songs about government corruption, heartbreak, and things generally crashing to an unpleasant end. He loves puppies.

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