I'd Harbored Hopes That The Intelligence That

I'd Breed A Little Liberal Army In The Wood, Just Like These Redneck Lunatics I See At The Local Bar With Their Tribe Of Mutant Inbred Piglets.

I'm Tearing Down Route 80 East, The Sun's On My Right Side. I'm Drunk, But My Vision's Good.

I Shot A Vein In My Neck And Coughed Up A Quaalude.

You're Going To Reap Just What You Sow

Valium Would Have Helped That Bash.