CATTLE

AND BUN

PARODY OF RATTLE AND HUM

ALKA SELTZER

VAN CAMP’S BEANS CAN

NEW HIRE

MACAROONS 2/69¢

ALL ABOUT THE WHEAT FLOUR

I STILL HAVEN’T FOUND

WHAT I’M COOKING FOR

EDAM FOR MY PIZZA

MILDEW AND MOLD

PRIED (IN THE NAME OF LUNCH)

HANDFUL OF OUR PHLEGM

LUNCH RESCUE ME

WHEN LUNCH TURNS TO POUNDS

FARTLAND

COD HEART STEW

THE STORE’S MANGLED CANNER

GULLET THE BLUE PIE

ALL I WANT IS FOOD

ALKA SELTZER

PARODY OF HELTER SKELTER

When you get to the problem

Of drawback with scallops that you’ve fried

And you stop cuz it burns for Pyrosis blindsides

Then you sweat as you succumb

Then you need me again

Do you...don't you want me to treat Flu?

Drink me down fast—I’ll fight inside you

Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer

This ain't a hangover from losing your financier?

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Will you...

Won't you want a headache shooed?

Drink me down fast—I’m a medical breakthrough!

Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer

Ain't recovered from gastroesophageal cancer?

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

When you get to the problem

Where attacks just won’t stop you decide

To now cop to concern but Pyrosis subsides

Then you get a bottle of rum

Then you need me again

Do you...

Don't you want me to treat Flu?

Drink me down fast—I’ll fight inside you

Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer

Ain't no lover of Proton Pump Inhibitors?

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

Alka Seltzer

TRACK 1

LYRICS BY LENNON–MCCARTONEY

MUSIC BY THE MEATLES

RECORDED LIVE AT DENVER, COLORADO

VAN CAMP’S

BEANS CAN

PARODY OF VAN DIEMEN’S LAND

Feed me now

Oh, feed me now

For lunch hour has come around

Ain’t no fun and stings my pride

Stuff my face with

Van Camp’s Beans can

It’s a shitty meal I swallow here

Merely rent and out my rear

I brought just this

I’m filled with shame

But I masticate beans anyway

Some wings would rule

In aluminum foil

Tupperware with strands of spaghetti boiled

But I’m paid a sum that I have gauged

Leaves a hungry man

With this package

Feed me now

Oh, feed me now

For lunch hour has come around

With stale bun that change provides

Stuff my face with

Van Camp’s Beans can

Still this poor man drools

And he pines away

For mesquite-smoked grilled steak fillets

I brought what I could

It won’t suffice

Starved to near death

These pangs are rife

TRACK 2

LYRICS BY THE WEDGE

MUSIC BY UCHEW

VOCALS BY THE WEDGE

NEW HIRE

PARODY OF DESIRE

Yeah

“Trainee,

Get on your feet!

Gonna go where the dark lights

And the toilet stalls meet

With that ratty mop

Next to the fryer

New Hire…”

She’s in Drive-Thru

Handles it with ease

Then I throw a Quarter Pounder

Quarter Pounder with Cheese

Over the counter with a ketchup gun

Pretty soon...

Everybody has fun

And the scapegoat

Will be just her…

New Hire…

New Hire…

When the manager asks:

“Who gets fired?”

New Hire…

New Hire…

Low earning…

She’s a doll face

She gives me an erection

Yeah, she was promised

She’d ace her inspection

“Now, sister, I have to let you go!

We suspect you’re stealing cash

Cuz your till came in low

You’re costing us money, money, money...

Money, money, money, money, money...

Money, money, money...

And the manager says:

‘You’re fired

New Hire...”

TRACK 3

SINGLE RELEASED SEPTEMBER 1988

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

MACAROONS

2/69¢

PARODY OF HAWKMOON 269

Like this dessert is cocaine

Got coconut on the brain

I need lots of...

Like an addict needs some soon

Macaroons

I need lots of...

Like ‘em when I’m woken

Like ‘em in the night

My sweet tooth’s used to this

Appetite

I need lots of...

Like coming home

And eating a hundred and thirteen

I’ll snack with glee

I’m such a fiend

I need lots of...

When delights Grandma sends

Have those almonds within

Always room to be found

I need lots of...

I need lots of...

Egg white mix rising

After it’s duly beat

Add some sweet meringue

For a better recipe

I need lots of...

Turn the heat on the oven

Spread honey

When they’re done

You gotta hustle to get one

I’ve a dozen

I need lots of...

When delights Grandma sends

Have those almonds within

Always room to be found

I need lots of...

I need lots of...

Like hunger needs shame

While you’re reaching to claim

Like I’m David Blaine

With these sweet cakes

Like I’m needing to be tamed

From my very own bane

Like these brought from Spain

Like a take-away chain’s

I need lots of...

I ate & pigged out

(Eat lots of...bring a cart of ‘em...)

For more I will scout

I need lots of...

Eat loudly in the dark

And the wife becomes a narc

I need lots of...

Eat lots of...

TRACK 4

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

FEATURING BOB DILL-AN

ALL ABOUT 

THE WHEAT FLOUR

PARODY OF ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER

"There must be some way I can drink beer"

Said the Broker to the Chief

"There's too much exclusion here

I can't trust the belief!

"Gluten-free—I think that's fine

But beer...to have a dearth?

None of them know that to decline

Not a penny my life is worth!"

"No reason to get incited,"

The Chief he drank a Coke

“There are many here among us

Who think that shit is but a joke!

"But you and I we've tried 'non-fat'

Even Atkins in '88!

So let us mock these things now

The flour is pretty great...great!

"All about the wheat flour

Convinces me to view

That diets that came and went

Are just merchants' ruse!

"All this talk of bread being barred

Accords not with the truth

All this talk of bread being barred

A test you should instead do!"

TRACK 5

LYRICS & MUSIC BY BOB DILL-AN

RECORDED LIVE FROM 'SAVE THE GUPPY

FREE SEAFOOD BUFFET & CONCERT', SAN FRANCISCO

I STILL HAVEN’T FOUND WHAT

I’M COOKING FOR

PARODY OF I STILL HAVEN’T FOUND

WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR

I have climbed the highest mounting

I have run through the meals

Only to eat cashews

Only to eat cashews

I have shunned

I have stalled

I have inhaled these puffed cheeseballs

Only to be eschewed

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

I have fisted honey chips

Felt the feeling as my hunger grips

It spurned fridge entire

Discerning desire

I have smoked up a ton of Sour Diesel

I have held my hand on the pestle

I brainstormed in the night

I console with a scone

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

I relieve with a single plum

When all the flavours

Will feed indecision

Feed indecision, now

So, yes, I’m still ­shunning

I soaked your fronds

And I­ loosened plantains

Ferried fudge sauce to my frame

To my frame

You know I should leave it

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

But I still haven't found what I'm cooking for

TRACK 6

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

REHEARSAL RECORDED AT HARLEM, NEW YORK

EDAM

FOR MY PIZZA

PARODY OF FREEDOM FOR MY PEOPLE

x

MILDEW AND MOLD

PARODY OF SILVER AND GOLD

“Smells like shit”, grouses someone

Spraying and scrubbing down

If only the cleaner was cleaning

A fridge less run down...

Less run down

Open jars in the back right

Looks like those limes turned brown

Those buns used to be white

Looks like they’re stained all around...

Stained all around

A roommate says,

“The pizza is old

If you don’t throw it out:

Mildew and mold!”

Baby back ribs are peeling

Solitary apple core

Ice cream someone with no sense

Left sitting on the shelf of the door

There’s a bottle of Triple Sec

And there’s a bottle of spice rum

Jesus, what’s this thing?!!

A guess anyone?

A guess anyone?

A guess anyone?

Onion rings

In your fridge hold

They start to collect

Mildew and mold

See us guessing and not knowing

Seen them crusty Ring Dings

See them gravy boat fly swarms

See them slight, tiny wings

Slight and tiny wings

Yeah!

The temperature gauge’s missing

The lever is shot

Lister’s labwork couldn’t have been worse

Than this mess that we’ve got

Romaine no longer seems green

Nor the crackers can you eat

Outside things are growing fur

Inside’s antique

Bet they reek...

Bet they reek

An all nighter it took

To get under control

Shit, my arm hurts!

Mildew and mold

Mildew and mold

“Yeah, Mildew and Mold…

This song was written in a kitchen

That’s pretty shitty

Right about the time a friend of ours

Little Stephen

Was supposed to spend a week with us

Playing Dungeons & Dragons!

It’s a song written about a fridge

In a college dorm

Outside of lower Pittsburg

A fridge we’re sick of looking into

And smelling of pee and ca ca

A fridge that was at the point

Where we were ready

To suspect harm

To the compressor!

A fridge who’s entire weight

Consisted of

Impromptu lab tests

While we clean goo

And throw out stale broccoli

Shaped like the head

Of Erika Badu

With hidden nests

Of gastronomic battalions

Of intestinal parasites

Am I sickening you?

Don’t mean to sicken you

Okay, Wedge...

Dare ya to eat

That blue cheese!”

TRACK 8

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

RECORDED LIVE IN DENVER, COLORADO

PRIED 

(IN THE NAME OF LUNCH)

PARODY OF PRIDE (IN THE NAME OF LOVE)

One man come in search of food

One man come and go

One man come here to satisfy

One man his hunger grows

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

One man caught a­­s he raids the fridge

One man can’t resist

One man with a sullen wife

One man threatened with a fist

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

Early morning April 4th

Apron strings with contentious sigh

Feed at last!

She took a knife

Says, “those hotcakes are pried!”

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

In the name of love

What chore in the name of love?

TRACK 9

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

RECORDED LIVE IN DENVER, COLORADO

HANDFUL

OF OUR PHLEGM

PARODY OF ANGEL OF HARLEM

It was a cold and wet December day

When I was working at the Burger K

This jerkoff had come around

On his BLT I made a sound

Of a handful

Diet Coke?

I would add some pee

Tonight

Revenge is what he’ll eat

Handful

A sauce

A sauce who’s secret

He won’t know

A sauce...

Handful of our phlegm

That man...he’s 23

He screwed over my sister Wendy

She got the clap

And she’s just sixteen

Man, I know what he’s got to eat

Handful

Gonna pay

Get a surprise

He’ll eat the truth

With a side of fries

Handful

A sauce

A sauce who’s secret

He won’t know

A sauce...

Handful of our phlegm

He says, “oh, hi…

Get my order to go!

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah...

Right now!”

Poo might in his burger strew

God knows if he’d eat it, too

I wiped my ass with his onion rings

Fries stolen from the trash bin

Don’t care

If it costs my pay

I step on the meat

Out in the alleyway

And I suppose I could just fight

But somehow I’m taking a real delight

I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes

After he’s through with this food

He’ll never know that it’s a handful...

Yeah, yeah…

Handful of our phlegm

Handful of our phlegm

TRACK 10

SINGLE RELEASED DECEMBER 1988

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

LUNCH

RESCUE ME

PARODY OF LOVE RESCUE ME

Lunch rescue me

Come noon, it’s time to eat

Hurry up and don’t let me wait

No pack of beef jerky

A lone pretzel won’t tide me

Lunch rescue me

Many hungers have I whet

But this one seems firmly set

Many things I seek to find themselves in me

A banana will appeal

A vending machine my dollar steal

Lunch rescue me

And the clock on the wall

Says it’s nowhere near noon at all

It’s eleven but it feels like quarter to 3

I’m here without a snack

Not even one Kit Kat

Said, “lunch rescue me”

Through the cold partition of glass

I see my hand nearly grasp

Feel the edges of a bag of potato chips

Feel the machine grip it tight

Hunger growing inside

Lunch rescue me

Yea, though I work

In an office in a highrise

Yea, I will fear no cooking

I just hope the Cafeteria staff

Has something to comfort me

Lunch rescue me

Sha la la...sha la la la

Sha la la la...ha la la

Sha la la la...sha la la la

Sha la la la...sha la la

Sha la la la...sha la la la

Sha la la

I said, “lunch!

Lunch rescue me!”

I said, “lunch!”

Climb down the staircases!

Said, “lunch!”

I said, “lunch!

Oh, sweet food!”

On the cusp of the hour

I’m craving something warm!

And, my word, I must get some relief!

Said, “lunch rescue me”

I’m here with stomach pangs

I’d feast on blood had I the fangs

Said, “lunch rescue me”...

To the cafeteria I have dashed

Lunchtime is here at last

I stand at the entrance

To the menu I can see

But there’s a sign right next to me

Says: “sorry, we are closed this week”

Lunch rescue me

TRACK 11

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU & BOB DILL-AN

MUSIC BY UCHEW

WHEN LUNCH 

TURNS TO POUNDS

PARODY OF WHEN LOVE COMES TO TOWN

I was a gourmant—I would love to eat

I would clear out a table before lunch ends for me

I was a biter—I could burn through the bread

Now I stand on a scale that I wish was dead

When lunch turns to pounds

My wife is gonna pin the blame

When lunch turns to pounds

My meals won’t ever be the same

Maybe I’m wrong

To not cut the calories down

But I’ll eat what I’ll eat

Before lunch turns to pounds

Used to make lunch a few cheese omelettes

I was making French Toast no one could forget

It took a pot of coffee just to wash that down

But I left room, honey, for some hash browns

I ran into a greasy spoon

When I heard a waitress scream

The short order cook had just run out of cream

As the menu changed I saw my life upside down

That was the day before lunch turned to pounds

When lunch turns to pounds

My wife is gonna pin the blame

When lunch turns to pounds

My meals won’t ever

Be the same

Maybe I’m wrong

To not cut the calories down

But I’ll eat what I’ll eat

Before lunch turns to pounds

When I woke up this morning

I was feeling beat

I felt so damn hungry

And I famished for a feast

When I looked up

I saw the Devil cooking on

And, my Lord,

He layed out brunch

Before it all turned to pounds

I was scared

When he worked the cutting board

If he noticed the desserts

I did stealthily hoard

I threw in more

When he turned the other side

For I’ve seen lunch conquered

Because I’m wide

When lunch turns to pounds

My wife is gonna pin the blame

When lunch turns to pounds

My meals won’t ever be the same

Maybe I’m wrong

To not cut the calories down

But I’ll eat what I’ll eat

Before lunch turns to pounds

TRACK 12

SINGLE RELEASED APRIL 1989

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

GUEST VOCALS & GUITAR BY B.B.Q. KING

FARTLAND

PARODY OF HEARTLAND

Hear her bum supply it upwind

Don’t smell it

Hear her bum supply it upwind

Much to your chagrin

You start choking

And the flatulence

Turns foul and pungent

Beans & broccoli

And fake crab meat

A six pack

Collard greens

Ol’ cheeses tried

Eggs and cabbage dishes

Lots of things with curry

She’s a fartland

She’s a farting girl

She’s a fartland

Didn’t know she was a fartland

Fartland

Fartland

It’s no fun listening to her spin

She says it’s from a passing man

She even fans her nose with her hand

But she is bereft of

A word that’s sincere

And the poisoned air

Brings a flood of tears

Though you pinch your nostrils

She Dutch Ovened matter

You’re soured from the ordeal

Relief can’t be called upon

She’s a fartland

She’s a farting girl

She’s a fartland

Onions sowed

She was a fartland

Fartland

Fartland

Tuna casserole

Now she’s a fartland

Fartland

Fartland

TRACK 13

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

­GAUDY PARTY

PARODY OF GOD PART II

Don't aggrieve the caterer

I don't aggrieve she’s booked

But the truth is I’d be game

Without the guise she played up

Don't believe in full dress

Confess that I misgive

Don't believe in ceviches

But you should seem corroborative

I...I...believe in lunch

Don't believe in coursed entrees

Don't believe in crepe

But every time she passes by

Style thoughts escape

I don't believe in wreath bows

Squid, roe, or meringue

Don't believe in the sushi

She just put one in my hand

I...I...believe in lunch

Don’t believe in chow mein

Got a cheeseball and meat spread

I’d have cold cuts and crackers open

Are those tiers of hard breads?

Don’t believe them when they tell me

These ain’t petit fours

They’re rich and savoury

While they’ve sick stayin’ power

I...I...believe in lunch

Don't believe in gold flan

There’s tripe...like...that’s worse

Instant harm’s a-going to get me

If I want for liverwurst

Don't believe that Kaiser Rolls

Can fill like orange cheese curls

­These muffins are lilliputian

The trifles concern

I...I...believe in lunch

Don't believe in the picks of cheese

The golden sage pork chops

You glorify the pasta

While the verdure dries up

Word’s there’s liqueur in the espresso

Pate..that’s trite

There’s braised beef on a stick

What darkness?

Do we need potlights?!

I...I...believe in lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

I feel like I’m palling

Like I’m whining on a meal

It’s all these props beside of me

With a presence that’s surreal

I...I...believe in lunch

Stop!

TRACK 14

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

THE STORE’S 

MANGLED CANNER

PARODY OF THE STAR SPLANGED BANNER

TRACK 15

PERFORMED LIVE BY SLIM JIM HENDRIX

MUSIC BY JOHN STAFFORD SMITH

GULLET

THE BLUE PIE

PARODY OF BULLET THE BLUE SKY

In the empty kitchen

Comes a starving child

See him follow a trail

From his nose

Right to a fresh baked pie

As if second sight

A red serving bowl

See his face now smeared

Running away

Before his mother knows

Pie

Gullet the blue pie

Gullet the blue pie

Gullet the blue...

Gullet the blue...

Ah…ah…

A bratty sibling

Becomes a tattling son

Lil’ Rob wrestled with morals

And his morals were overcome

You can’t just take a pie

Or you raise a mother’s ire

Saw him taking chances

Saw the stakes

Get higher and higher

Pie

Gullet the blue pie

Gullet the blue pie

Gullet the blue...

Gullet the blue...

Ah…ah…

So his mom comes up to him

His face red

Like a clown nose on a coke rush

Like all the soreness

Of a well spanked tush

And she’s peeling off his Dungarees

Slappin’ his ass

One Mississippi...

Two Mississippi...

And now he can’t play those video games

And now he can’t play those video games

Grounded

He’s now punished for a whole week

At 7:30

He’s now required to go to sleep

He walks away

And stomps the floor

His mom asks him

If he’d like some more

As the boy seethes

And begins to moan

Through the walls

You can hear his mommy groan

Inside it’s a mother’s dilemma

Inside it’s a mother’s dilemma

Across the world

You hear stories so often

Feel the pain

When mothers tear ‘em a new one

Pounding on the wayward children

Pounding on the wayward children

Who dare…

To eat mom’s…

Blueberry pie

TRACK 16

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW

RECORDED LIVE IN TEMPE, ARIZONA

ALL I WANT

IS FOOD

PARODY OF ALL I WANT IS YOU

You say you want

French Fries and onion rings

You say you want

Cheeseburgers & chicken wings

But after all the sausages you ate

From the table to your face

Man...all I want is food

You say you hanker

For chicken with gravy on it

A pizza would be nice beside it

All the drive-thrus in the night

You say you hunger

For some Taco Bell

A sub would go down very well

Your kingdom for a tuna melt

But after all the sliders that you ate

From White Castle open late

Man...all I want is food

You say you crave

More after you’ve just eaten

Has your appetite ever been beaten?

You say you want

Donuts in a box of twelve

Those cookies on the shelves

And that’s just for yourself

All the calories you intake

I really worry for your sake

Man...all I want is food

Food...all I want is food

All I want is food

All I want is food

TRACK 17

SINGLE RELEASED JUNE 1989

LYRICS BY BONNEEAU

MUSIC BY UCHEW