Vikki-Beat, 1983.

Culprits: Mike O'Brien (vocals, acoustic guitar, broom); Wallace Hammond (guitar, synthesizer, bass, kazoo, violin, explosive devices); Tony Richards (bass, vocals); Justin Hall (drums); Craig Squires (saxophone, synthesizer, bagpipe chanter, New Blue Dijeridoo Kazoo. vocals); Jon Heald (guitar); Mark Oakley (bass); Terry Carter (drums); Louie Thomas (drums); Herman (digital percussion); Lorne Taylor (echo manipulation); Wet Cheese Delerium (backward sheet metal).

Recorded at CHMR Studio A, December 1982-February 1983.
Produced by Wallace Hammond.
Cover art by John O'Brien.

Click on a title to get the lyrics:
  1. Freakin' at the High School Hop
  2. Baby's a Nazi
  3. Nuclear Baby Rag
  4. Beaver Birds
  5. Tenth Rate Band
  6. Yodelayhee Eskimo
  7. I'm on Drugs
  8. Born in Beirut
  9. Sex Change Blues
  10. Swampfire
  11. Meat Wars
  12. Modern Diseases


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

Coupla little duckies from the high school
coupla dozen beer, oh baby I'm cool
teenage dreams
in faded jeans
and a dollar and a half in the record machine
at the hop

Heavy metal music in my bloodstream
rubbers in my pocket and some Brylcreem
took a pill
to get a thrill
then I started dancin cause I couldn't stand still
at the hop

I was freakin at the high school hop
freakin at the high school hop
fuckin nearly blew my top
freakin at the high school hop
didn't know when I took the hit
it'd blow my poor little mind to shit
at the hop
at the high school hop

Then the dance floor started shakin
the music started pulsatin
the whole place was goin around and round
that's when I started freakin



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

Baby's a Nazi
she's got golden blonde hair
and embroidered pink swastikas
on her underwear
satin and diamonds
and a crown on her head
and a picture of Hitler
hangin over her bed

Baby's a Nazi
with a 44 bust
an Aryan angel
full of arrogant lust
a dagger strapped tight
between her creamy white thighs
and a vision of murder
in her baby blue eyes

Baby's a Nazi
on an S and M trip
she's the girl of my dreams
with spike heels and a whip
with her shiny white teeth
she's a fascist's delight
see her boogie in her jackboots
at the disco tonight

Baby's a Nazi
she's the queen of the Huns
she can polish her pistol
while I fondle her buns
if she told me she loved me
I would tell her the same
she could march me to the ovens
and I wouldn't complain.


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

We're makin nuclear babies
here in the U.S.A.
they might be radioactiive
but we make em anyway
just take a little peice of plutonium
with tenderness and love
and you'll have them nuclear babies
just a fallin from the sky above

Let's make some nuclear babies
I think that they're okay
here's to nuclear babies
I think they're here to stay
let's mutate together
there's a meltdown on the way
won't you be my nuclear baby today?

They say that nuclear babies
are oh so nice and clean
you never have to wind em up
they don't run on gasoline
you never see nuclear babies
a lyin by the side of the road
but watch out when you play with them
cause nuclear babies explode


We're proud of nuclear babies
like our other great inventions
for the road to Three Mile Island
is paved with good intentions
we'll make our nuclear babies
no matter what you say
and if we all get blown to hell
that's the price we gotta pay.



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

We don't take no abuse
we let it all hang loose
we're a rock n roll excuse
with no place to go
we play the notes all wrong
we go on for way too long
and nobody plays our song
on the radio
We're just a tenth rate band

We're just a tenth rate band
hey but ain't we grand
so give the boys a hand

Our amps have all been blown
but we make the groupies moan
and we'd sound just like the Rolling Stones
if we only could
we're all on LSD
and we never sing on key
and the critics all agree
that we're no damn good
We're just a tenth rate band


The rights to us are sold
we'll never get too old
and our album just went gold
over in Japan
it's an easy line of work
to get paid for feeding dirt
to a million screaming jerks
who don't understand
We're just a tenth rate band


I love rock n roll
so blow ten bucks on my album, baby
I love rock n roll
so buy another ticket and make me RICH.


(Words & music by Mike O'Brien)

Away up north where the cold winds blow
lives Yodelayhee Eskimo
a real nice guy and a regular Joe
is Yodelayhee Eskimo

His wife is cold she's been out in the snow
Yodelayhee Eskimo
he's gonna go down around Mexico
Yodelayhee Eskimo

Gonna get a good job gonna get some dough
Yodelayhee Eskimo
and that is all that there is to know
about Yodelayhee Eskimo.


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

My hands are shakin
and my fingers too
my pupils are dilated
and my lips are blue
my vision is blurry
I'm a gonna throw up
I'm on drugs, man
I'm all fucked up!

Gimme some cocaine
and some DMT
a bag of marijuana
laced with PCP
gimme some heroin
I'll shoot it up
I'm on drugs, man
I'm all fucked up!

I can't face reality
unless I'm wired
I crank so much speed
that I never get tired
I wanna be sedated
till my heart gives up
I'm on drugs, man
I'm all fucked up!

Gimme some barbituates
and amphetamines
laudanum and ritalin
and methedrine
gimme some librium
valium too
I'm on drugs, man
why aren't you?


(Words by Mike O'Brien, music by Wallace Hammond, Craig Squires & Tony Richards)

I was born in Beirut with a gun in my hand
I'm a PLO fighter, and Yassar's my man
exiled in Lebanon, hungry and lean
and fightin for a homeland I've never seen

Born in Beirut
I'm a refugee
I don't need nobody
droppin bombs on me

Menachim Begin is coming down hard
usin Ronnie Reagan's credit card
in a big Cadillac with a gun on top
he's beatin us back, man, he ain't gonna stop


The UN pulled out, thinking things were okay
but the legions of Zion were headin our way
they entered the camps to prepare for the feast
the Phalange Militia with the mark of the beast


Now we see the oppressor with his flag unfurled
the bloodthirsty love child of the western world
superpower dollars and his god on his side
and he ain't gonna stop till we all get fried


From the Bogside ghetto to the port of Gdansk
to Chatila and Sabra at the point of a lance
from the Afghan border down to E1 Salvador
the bodies pile up, but the devils want more.



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

When I woke up this morning
I got a dreadful fright
a tragedy befell me
in the middle of the night
the last thing I expected
it came right out of the blue
baby got a sex change
what am I gonna do?

Her name was Esmerelda
I used to love her
so but she had an operation
and now her name is Joe
I don't think I'll recover
but I guess I got to try
baby got a sex change
I think I'm gonna die

How could this have happened
to a real nice guy like me
I really loved the woman
that my baby used to be
She didn't even warn me
before the deed was done
baby got a sex change
they sorta sewed one on

My baby got adjusted
I feel just like a clown
she's living with her girlfriend
on the other side of town
and here I sit in misery
my only ship has sunk
baby got a sex change
and now I'm gettin drunk.


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

Smoke rises up from the Florida swampland
decaying vegetation and rotting debris
black slave descendants, poverty stricken
Cuban and Haitian refugees
alligators roam the streets and the sewers
gonna bring Amerika down to its knees

In the Swampfire - comin today
swampfire - comin to stay
swampfire - American way
forgotten and burnin in the swampfire

Hurricaine brewing in vacationer's heaven
high time for Whitey to prepare for a fall
the negroes pour out of their miserable ghettos
civil rights workers were no help at all
a tidal wave swells to devour the nation
shakin Ronnie Reagan with his back to the wall


Watch out, honky, your days are numbered
better get while the gettin's good
when the black man rises it'll be Armageddon
string you up by your little white hood

Beachside paradise tortured and burnin
fat, retired businessmen swallowed by flame
alligators rule the streets of Miami
bloodstained beaches are just part of the game
a horde of locpsts come screaming for vengeance
start runnin, Whitey, cause you're to blame



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

On a planet far away
down in the milky way
a bunch of animated peaces of meat began to play
they were playin a game called war
in the end when they counted the score
there was a bunch of meat lyin around and nothing more

Meat Wars
bringin me down
meat flyin around
Meat Wars
where will it end?
they're startin again

Then some of the meat that was left
got tired of this thing called death
and they screamed at the rest of the meat
till they ran out of breath
but still the game went on
with the bayonets and bombs
and they knew the game wouldn't end till the meat was all gone

Now the planet Earth lies bare
spilled meat is everywhere
but the smell of the dream that was lost still hangs in the air the game's been called for today
with all the meat blown away
but they tell me we're all meat ourselves
so why don't we play ?


(Words & music by Wallace Hammond)

Heebie jeebies
Modern diseases
Afraid of transmission
Toxic emissions
Remission could burn the shit outa me

I'm numb when I get a fever
Check my pulse when I get a cough
Strange little spasms
Delirium fantasms
And I'm sure that my brain has gone soft

Got a rash from the asphalt plant
Tumors from the gum factory
Don't know just how long I'll last
Before a new cancer gets me

Urban diseases
The gasps and wheezes
Around every turn
There's bedsheets to burn
To wash out the garbage is a thing that I've learned

I run when there's a derailment
I hide from things with no cure
The latest ravage
The bubonic plague
A bout of the runs and I'll be runnin no more

I'm cautious with my hypodermic
I'm careful when I'm in the loo
Alcohol lowers my resistance to germs
So I'll die if I go on the booze

Take me back to:

Take me drunk, I'm home
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