SMILE - THINK POSITIVE


Vikki-Beat, 1984.

Culprits: Terry Carter (drums, percussion, counting in English & German, Blue Star, teen appeal); Wallace Hammond (guitars, apple juice tins, tambourine, 4-track synth delay ensemble, organ, vocals, castrato vocals, kazoo, vibraslap, Old Stock, total destruction of band on "Mama's Dead"); Mark Oakley (bass, fretless bass, Hawaiian Heartbreak Guitar, vocals, synthesizer, percussion, pan pipes, electric flange ukelele, Old Stock, dog-walkin'); Mike O'Brien (vocals, percussion, siren, 38 Special, toy piano, kazoo, Dominion Ale); Des Walsh (fiddle); Allyn Chudy (vocals).
Recorded in Jon Heald's basement, spring 1984. Overdubs recorded at Vikki-Beat Studios.
Produced by Wallace Hammond, assisted by Mike O'Brien.
Cover art by Mike O'Brien.

Click on a title to get the lyrics:
  1. E.T. Love
  2. Mama's Dead and the Black Hen's Laid Out
  3. Gidget Goes to Hell
  4. Oh Columbus
  5. Economic O.D.
  6. I Hate My Job
  7. Imperial Birds
  8. Hitler Didn't Rock n Roll
  9. Guiseppe, Are You Dead?
  10. Victim of Society
  11. Dancing in a Wasteland
  12. Wild, Wild Youth in Asia

E.T. LOVE

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Wallace Hammond)

I went to a nightclub last Saturday night
to check out the action I was feelin alright
had a few drinks I began to unwind
then I noticed something that ignited my mind
there in the corner with a smile on her face
was a mutant love doll from outer space

Let me caress your antenna, baby
take me up in your space thing, maybe
build our own little galaxy of love - E.T. Love

I slicked back my hair and adjusted my pants
went over to her table and I asked her to dance
she smiled and accepted when I made my advance
the music started cookin I went into a trance
rockin and rollin all over the place
with a mutant love doll from outer space

Let me fly in your saucer thing
be in your space like anything
have our own space odyssey of love - E.T. love

Later in the evening when I took her back home
put on some records and got totally stoned
she excited my electrons just holding my hand
and then when she kissed me it was all I could stand
ginseng and jellies, leather and lace
and a mutant love doll from outer space

Oh, baby, I love your pale green skin
and your baby blue chrome-plated eyes
I love your space-age high-impact plastic head
and oh, those three realistic openings
I know we can make it together
even though you're from another world
we don't have to worry bout incompatable genes
cause baby, you're my kind of girl

She took me in her saucer and she took me away
to a little blue planet many light years away
in the outer reaches of the galaxy
in pan-dimensional ecstasy
makin little mutants at a furious pace
with a mutant love doll from outer space

Let me caress your antenna, baby
take me up in your space thing, maybe
build our own little galaxy of love - E.T. Love




MAMA'S DEAD AND THE BLACK HEN'S LAID OUT

(Words by Terry Carter, music by Wallace Hammond)

CHORUS:
Trouble never comes alone
On that you can bet your pay
Trouble never comes alone
Of that you can be sure
Mama's dead and the black hen's laid out
Mama's dead and the black hen's all laid out

Re-election day
The bastards back for another term
Restitution day
We'll sit and watch the old town burn
They're paintin it red tonight
Illuminated through the firelight
The sirens scream and wail
but all to no avail
No cops'll ever stop what's goin down tonight

CHORUS

They waited down in Brixton
I Greenham Common and Warsaw too
Berlin and Harlem waited
For answers they'll never get
The black, the red, the white and the brown
Are goin out for a night on the town
And this'll be a tear you'll never forget

CHORUS

Oh man they're gonna wish
They'd never shown their faces round here
Workboot through a plate glass window
Now you're gonna feel the fear
No more time for words
Diplomacy is for the birds
The time has come to get your ass out of here

CHORUS

The black, the red, the brown and the white
Are goin out for on the town tonight




GIDGET GOES TO HELL

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Mike O'Brien, Wallace Hammond, Mark Oakley & Terry Carter)

Have you heard the news from the USA?
Gidget got her draft card in the mail today
goin to Lebanon, gonna cut the crap
gonna blow them fuckin Syrians right off the map

CHORUS:
When Gidget goes to Hell for the USA
Gidget goes to Hell for the USA
Gidget goes to Hell for the USA
Gidget goes to Hell!

Gidget's little friends, barely out of their teens
dressin in the colors of the US Marines
surf up to the beach with their M16s
then get sent home to be buried in designer jeans

CHORUS

Peacekeeping force at the end of their rope
Gidget's duckin bullets, better send in Bob Hope
US special envoys ravin on about peace
but it's grody to the max in the Middle East
grody to the max
grody to the max
grody to the max in the Middle East

CHORUS

From the halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli
Da da da da da da da

Gidget oils her rifle in the Lebanese sun
sharpening her bayonet for summertime fun
but this ain't california what's that funny smell?
another Yankee ass gets fried as Gidget goes to Hell

CHORUS




OH COLUMBUS

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Wallace Hammond, Jon Heald & Justin Hall)

In fourteen hundred and ninety two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue
his ships were tight and his heart was true
Columbus, where ya goin to?


Columbus was a sailor man
who didn't have a care
he sailed the ocean forty times
but he never went nowhere
Columbus had three sailin ships
and a very hearty crew
he landed in America in 1962

CHORUS:
Oh Columbus - sailed the ocean blue
Oh Columbus - didn't have a clue
look what you discovered
look what it's become
Oh Columbus - look at what you done

They thought they were in India
the land of silks and spices
it really was the U.S.A.
the land of crimes and vices
Columbus had a grand old time
in Vegas and Miami
but he got busted by the feds
in good old Alabamie

CHORUS

Columbus got arrested
he was promptly sent to jail
they hocked Queen Isabella's jewels
to get him out on bail
Columbus trucked on back to Spain
swearin never more to roam
he told them of America
they put him in a home

CHORUS




ECONOMIC O.D.

(Words & music by Wallace Hammond)

CHORUS:
O.D., O.D.
O.D. economy
The good times have all ended
Good time is all run out
The good times are over for sure this time
The good times are over for good
Dat's Capital, Dat's Capital
Dat's Capital, Dat's Capital

A plugged nickel
A rubber check
A fixed match
Dat's Capital
Soup kitchens
Bread lines
Death squads
Dat's Capital

A tax scam
A used car
A snuff flick
Dat's Capital
Miami
6-4-9
The Day After
Dat's Capital

CHORUS

VERSE

CHORUS




I HATE MY JOB

(Words & music by Wallace Hammond, arr. by Da Slyme)

When I was unemployed
I was not overjoyed
When I was unemployed
I was not overjoyed
I was just a drunk
Now I'm an office skunk
Workin for a Nazi slob
And now I hate my fuckin job

CHORUS:
I hate my job, I hate my job
I hate my fuckin job
I hate my job, I hate my job
I hate my fuckin job

I'm upwardly mobile
Lickin the boss's ass
I'm upwardly mobile
Lickin the boss's ass
Now I got the word
Life as a Company turd
Success is assured
Cause now I'm on the board

CHORUS

I backstabbed and finked
To get to where I am
You gotta have that business sens
If you wanna earn the clams

CHORUS

I sucked a middle management cock
And I crossed the picket line
I sucked a middle management cock
And I crossed the picket line
I am just a scab
A pusshead radio gab
A moron by any other name
Would stink just the same

CHORUS




IMPERIAL BIRDS

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Mike O'Brien, Wallace Hammond, Jon Heald, Terry Carter & Mark Oakley)

Circling like vultures, waiting to spring
hungry superpowers are out on the wing
snapping and drooling, their carnivorous way
the underdeveloped are the easiest prey

Imperial birds with an iron will
Imperial birds swooping down for the kill
bombs strapped beneath them, where eggs used to be
bad news for my little black brothers and me

Little birds fighting while the big birds get fat
they'd torch the whole henhouse at the drop of a hat
never satisfied, they want more than they've got
but there's not enough birdseed to feed the whole flock

Imperial birds screaming out of the void
Imperial birds, or are we just paranoid
building grand empires out of third world nests
birds oś a feather - the East and the West

Come on, everybody, let's Bird Dance

REPEAT FIRST TWO VERSES

What can we do about imperial birds?
What can we do about imperial birds?
What can we do about imperial birds?
Fuck em. Let's pluck em.




HITLER DIDN'T ROCK N ROLL

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Mike O'Brien, Mark Oakley & Wallace Hammond)

CHORUS:
Sing Deustchesland Uber Alles
wave your swastika high
go downtown with your jackboots on
tighten up your narrow tie
so you think you're pretty trendy
but Nazis ain't got no soul
Mussolini was a dirty old meanie
and Hitler didn't rock n roll

Hey you little neo-Nazi
so you think you're pretty cool
but in your genuine SS tie clip
you're just another fascist tool
play those neo-wave records
and salute your Nazi flag
Third Reich antics may seem very romantic
but Nazis are a fuckin drag

CHORUS

So you think they had it together
back in 1933
thought they had a better way to run our world
don't you lay that crap on me
Goebbels was a low-class scumbag
Goering was a fat arsehole
Himmler and his bums were a bunch of little crumbs
and Hitler didn't rock n roll.

CHORUS




GUISEPPE, ARE YOU DEAD?

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Wallace Hammond, Mark Oakley, Mike O'Brien & Terry Carter)

I hear you're having a relapse
Guiseppe, are you dead?
as you sit and watch your world collapse
Guiseppe, are you dead?
they eat meat on Friday
they got no respect
your very existence becoming suspect
the stock market's falling, the world ends at ten
and Mother Superior's pregnant again

CHORUS:
But don't cry, it's alright
it's just a phase you're going through
you're way out of touch
and there's really not much you can do
Guiseppe, are you dead?
Guiseppe, are you dead?
you know you're not well, boy
you're starting to smell, boy - you're dead
there's no restitution and your institution is dead

Guatemala Nicaragua
Guiseppe, are you dead?
neo-religious paranoia
Guiseppe, are you dead?
your missionaries are doing their best
but down in the jungle
they're just like the rest
they're smearing your name on the six o'clock news
and the bells of St. Peter's are playin the blues

CHORUS

Just revive the old tradition
Guiseppe, are you dead?
have another inquisition
Guiseppe, are you dead?
break out the thumbscrews, kneel down and pray
torture some pagans to brighten your day
commoners cringe in the face of your whip
but better swing fast cause you're losing your grip

CHORUS

A pall descending over Rome
Guiseppe, are you dead?
they put you in the old pope's home
Guiseppe, are you dead?
the cardinals gather around your deathbed
as Maxwell's silver hammer comes down on your head
the world kneels in mourning for God's chosen men
a white puff of smoke and the game starts again

CHORUS




VICTIM OF SOCIETY

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Wallace Hammond & Jon Heald)

Truckin on down the Trans Canada Highway
drivin in a stolen car
just knocked over a Texaco station
put a hole through a guy at the bar
watch out people, it's getaway time
had enough of this promised land
Mr. Ambrose Shea, baby, take me away
I'm goin back to Newfoundland

CHORUS:
To hell with the bankers
to hell with the bosses
to hell with the economy
buddy, don't blame me for what I done
I'm a victim of society

I came out west in 77
in a 69 Chevrolet
got a job stackin bottles in a Pepsi factory
for 25 bucks a day
but the layoff came when I didn't expect it
and I wound up on the street
when the going gets bad, the bad get desperate
and a man's just got to eat

CHORUS

Had me a wife and two fine children
and a future in the sun
now she's turnin tricks on Jasper Avenue
and I'm livin on the run
my house, my car, my life, my kids
reposessed by fascist swine
so I went downtown and I bought this gun
just to reposess what's mine

CHORUS

I spent nine months in Dorchester prison
two years in Collins Bay
and if anybody tries to send me up again
I'm gonna blow the sons of whores away
the mounties don't always get their man
baby, this time I'm goin free
and there's a 38 Special tucked under my belt
says they won't put the cuffs on me.

CHORUS




DANCING IN A WASTELAND

(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Craig Squires, Mike O'Brien, Mark Oakley & Wallace Hammond)

There's a little place downtown where everybody goes
all you need is rhythm and a fancy suit of clothes
a lack of moral fibre and a spoon for up your nose

CHORUS:
Dancing in a wasteland
Dancing in a wasteland
Dancing in a wasteland
you're so wasted

You can boogie to the latest tunes and share a little toke
hit on all the secretaries drink your rum and coke
but buddy, let me tell you your life's a fuckin joke
dancing in a wasteland you're so wasted

CHORUS

Dancing in a wasteland
in the ruins of mankind
forget the bomb
forget the wars
and wipe away your mind

The dangers of the neutron bomb are meaningless to you
as you shake your bouncin boogie in a polyester zoo
the shit is comin down so fast and you don't have a clue

CHORUS




WILD WILD YOUTH IN ASIA

(Words by Wallace Hammond & Mike O'Brien, music by Mark Oakley & Wallace Hammond)

I watched an old man dig a hole
Smile - Think Positive
Rally round the old flag pole
Smile - Think Positive
Diggin it deeper to bury his soul
Smile - Think Positive
And flushin the world down the toilet bowl
Smile - Think Positive

Did you see Hitler and Werner von Braun
Buildin V2s for you
They built their V2s for the Fatherland
In 1942
Did you see Churchill and Roosevelt
Buildin that V2 too
Project Manhatten, the Allied dream
Made on Wall Street for you

Wild Wild, Wild Wild
Wild Wild, Wild WILD

Did you see the big one end with a bang
In 1945
There ain't no mess and there ain't no blood
In cities fried alive
V2s over-run the world
No one will survive
And Hitler never died, he won
When they stole his V2 jive

Wild Wild, Wild Wild
Wild Wild, Wild WILD

Did you see Stalin get his own little bomb
Churchill and Mao got theirs
Nuclear powers then had the whole world
By the short and curly hairs
They pick and they poke at the doomsday device
With shouts and taunts and glares
Buildin em bigger, buildin em better
The end of it all, who cares?

Wild Wild, Wild Wild
Wild Wild, Wild WILD

I watched an old man dig a hole
Smile - Think Positive
Light a fire on the old flag pole
Smile - Think Positive
Grab the old men who sold our souls
Smile - Think Positive
And flush those old men down the toilet bowl
Smile - Think Positive

Youth in America, dig a hole, etc, etc.



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Take me drunk, I'm home

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