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Mount Us More

by Superego

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Hell I been haulin' some ass Got a payment due on Tuesday Ain't slept in three days Hit a hobo on the tollway Spent a long frozen night Tryin' to dig his scalp out of my wheel well Eighteen wheels down the road Hot rubber on the pavement Why don't we let's go Try and save it You’re a beautiful girl Don't try and kill me while I'm sleepin' Hell I been drivin' six straight days Ain't had no conversation Just shootin' what pays Always avoidin' destitution My old lady weighs a ton And my daughter's turnin' tricks in Cleveland (Chorus) Hell you crawled into my cab And gave me a dirty mic-check You kept callin’ me dad And told me to stab you like a pirate I was choked and then punched And you left me passed out in a toilet (Chorus) Hell we made it through three nights We did a lot of dickin' No drunk transvestites Tryin' to squeeze a trick in We'll part ways in Yuma And I'll never quite forget your cleavage (Chorus)
It's cold and the sun doesn't seem to wanna work no more Last night hangs in my temples and my lower back is sore There's a rustle in the blankets and your hair falls over the pillow And somethin' tells me we're finally on the mend American woman Navajo bitch Genital warming Crotchular itch Won't you give me some time To take penicillin for the pain Well there's ten bucks on the nightstand I'll pull two hundred more And the butt floating in the tumbler reminds me There's no more scotch to pour My wristwatch is still tangled in your lace brassiere And the letter to the correction house Says your brother's still in there (Chorus) Well it's time for me to find my boots and head out on the road I would have liked to wake you but your insomnia told me no I left your dog the cheeseburger that we shared last night And I mailed the letter for you to that social parasite (Chorus) (Descent into madness)
If lovin’ you is black then baby I don’t wanna be white If wantin’ you is wrong then maybe I’m not right You’re my dark malt liquor honey I’m your white-knight-cap Let me lay you down tonight for a long wet nap I’m doin’ double-nickels down the Flor’da Forty-Four There ain’t no summina bitch who loves you more If kissin’ you is queer then sunshine I ain’t whiskey straight Let’s go get a girly drink and speculate You’re my appletini sweetie I’m your salty dog If needin’ you is drunk then darlin’ I can’t rhyme I’m steppin’ sexy-sixes down the Lou’siana Line I’m haulin’ loads of ass to make you mine I’m your Hardy Boy sweet lover you’re my Nancy Drew Let’s go solve the mystery of the butt tattoo I’m shootin’ several-sevens down the Texas Twenty-Two I’m bustin’ at the nut to get to you I says I’m bustin’ at the nut Bustin’ at the what I’m dustin’ off my strut to get to you Lustin’ at that big ass butt tattoo Ah trust in good ol’ Mutt to get to you
I been datin’ this girl since a half past three I’d never heard of or taken any peyote She told me that it’d make our love feel pure I wasn’t wearin’ nothin’ but a couple of Jingly-jangly spurs I was five times naked I was five times naked When they arrested me at the Portugal County jail Hell they threw me in a cell not wearin’ a stitch But I was sufferin’ from a case of the hanky-panky itch Well the door came unlocked 'cause the power went out I went a-streakin’ out the station with my pecker hangin’ out Five times naked I was five times naked I was only tryin’ to get a little honey-tail Well I was sweaty and lubed from the chemical reaction And them old law dawgs couldn’t get no traction They was a-huffin’ and a-puffin’ and a-too damn slow They hollered Shunt hold still or we’ll never let you go (Chorus X2) Well mornin’ came quick so did two more breaks (from jail that is) I was a-comin’ off the drug and a-startin’ to shake They said your lady friend is here and she’s posted bail I said let’s boogey on my yacht where I can’t land in jail (Chorus X2)
I’m wearin’ another gal’s black eye I’m swearin’ at another gal and mama that ain’t right She may love me like a man But she can’t shove me like you can I’m burnin’ another gal’s chicken pot pie I’m learnin’ how another gal can make me cry She may tell me that that she cares But she don’t push me down the stairs Cover up won’t cover up that shiner on my face You told me you were the woman who would put me in my place I’m sportin’ another gal’s tattoo I’m courtin’ another gal’s black and blue She might take me by the hand But she won’t pelt me with a pan I’m wearin’ another gal’s black eye
I bought you some flowers and you just looked at me I bought you some earrings and you just went to sleep I said let's go to Vegas but you don't gamble or drink With all this passion whirlin' around it kind of made me think You don't like to fuck me So why am I still here Gettin' you to give me some lovin' Is like gettin' me to give up beer You don't like to fuck me So I guess I'll just get on home I told you once I won't tell you again Being with you is like being alone I read books on makin' love and books on the psyche of women We were wanderin' 'round in a desert of love but we needed an oasis to swim in I packed my bags but your attention simply could not be bought So I thought I'd write you this here song and let you know some of my thoughts (Chorus) Eatin' S'mores and kissin' whores And knockin' over discount liquor stores I talked to a preacher and I talked to a nun They said you son of a bitch you're a son of a gun (Chorus)
This here’s a little song I heard on the road from Texarkana to Louisibama. Now the interstate was backed up for seven miles and as many hours. Seven, if you’re doin’ the math. The problem, near as I could tell, was a run-down Plymouth Duster in front of me. Oh and that song I mentioned, goes a little somethin’ like ‘is. Old, fat, slow, and Christian Cloggin' up Highway Nine You'd better lighten your load Get off the Goddamned road When the rapture comes a-callin’ It'll leave you behind You’re old, fat, slow, and Christian You might as well be settin' still Step on the gas And move your righteous ass If Jesus don't a-get you Then I probably will Breaker breaker 1-9, I hope you got your ears on son. Now I ain't never been a spiritual man, but what the hell Lordy, if you're listenin', I guess that makes me prayin'. Used to be that callin' yourself a believer meant never livin' life in the fast lane. Well these days that just ain’t the case is it Mister Christ? In fact nowadays, seems the only thing in the fast lane is convoy after convoy of old, fat, and slow Christians. Now look, I only want the best for this world and I guess that's why I'm humbly asking you to take their big, fat lives in a real old-testamentational kind of way. I’ll tell you what, you do that much for me, and well hell, I'll promise to keep my pedal down and my powder dry. Make the smokeys stall and the ladies sigh. I’m 10-10 in the shade, pickle-parked and Taylor made. No I’m not done! Don’t you drown me out! You listen to me, Lord! You and me got a score to settle! By God, I’m gonna see you dead! Permanently this time! Old, fat, slow, and Christian Walkin’ places in your car Start pullin’ your weight Exit the interstate I'm clearin' out a path For all the ladies who are Young, thin, fast, and sinful Baby I like your style Let’s double it down Pull in the nearest town Buy a little house That we can live in a while Until we're old, fat, slow, and Christian
Well I was in your house and you was all alone I was brutally handsome you wanted to get you some Then you took off your shirt and I took off my blouse You started chokin' my Jedi like you were David Prowse Stop lookin' at me with your queer eyes Stop lookin' at me while I rub your thighs Stop lookin' at me just leave me alone Stop lookin' at me while I give you the bone Well we were doin' forensics on how your pants came off I was questioning your pelvis you smoked my Davidoff I knew I had a purpose you were forgettin’ your name And then two minutes later we left the flesh-trophy-train You were sellin' me a truck an hour ago Now you're starring in the Shunt McGuppin rodeo I was playin' poker and you was playin' fish And your lazy eye didn’t help my nervous twitch Well Christ that was awkward I was on your hair Now we can't seem to find our underwear I'm so glad that I met you you wish you hadn't met me May I ask are you allergic to herpes (Chorus) Looky-looky loo Baby I got the tangy-wangy stew Darlin' I’m gonna funky mashy tasty I got a hickamaroo
Red meat and depression Another lonely night A TV tray confession Another lonely bite Red meat and depression I feel it in my gut Leftover obsession Life’s a low-down tender cut You’re grillin’ my ass instead of fillin’ my glass Now I’d like another beer You can call it my fault just pass me the salt And I’ll sprinkle my wounds my dear You went off of the pill when I went up on Faith Hill Now you’re havin’ a twin or two And you live in a van with that lesbian man Just doin’ as sinners do Red meat and depression Cloggin’ up my veins Overcooked aggression Heartaches and hunger pains Heartaches and hunger pains Heartaches and hunger pains
There’s country roads and horny toads we’re roses in Jim Beam And there’s parkin’ lots and vacant spots where you and me make three ‘Cause I’d like to ball ya in Somalia Go behind ya in Carolinya Gonna poke ya in Nova Scotia Then get drunk in Aberdeen And I wish you well ‘cause you’re havin’ my baby I wish you well ‘til she’s eighteen There’s wishin’ wells and dizzy spells and catnip in the tea An abandoned house and a tattered blouse and your panties in a tree I’m gonna bang ya in Da Nangya Gonna bone ya in Macedonia Gonna fuck ya in Kentuckya Take a smoke in Tel Aviv And I wish you well ‘cause you’re havin’ my baby I wish you well ‘til she’s eighteen Well there’s frilly thongs and whiskey songs and coffee without cream You got a warm back seat you’re a tasty treat I’m gonna bounce you on my knee And then I’ll Drill ya in Amarillya Gonna fill ya in Brazilya Dig to China in your vaginya Then get lunch in Schenectady And I wish you well ‘cause you’re havin’ my baby I wish you well ‘til she’s eighteen And I wish you well ‘til she’s eighteen


'What an album!' - God, The Almighty

Country western legend Shunt McGuppin first met country western firebrand Mutt Taylor in a barroom brawl. Enter guitar great Cubby Lauderbourne and multi-instrumentalist Jimmy Blades and the rest is American history. The night ended with four broken jaws and the most marvelous country rock supergroup ever formed, The (Goddamned) Journeymen. Boogie-woogie.


released July 2, 2013


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Superego Los Angeles, California

SUPEREGO: Profiles In Self-Obsession. Improvised, analyzed, and brought to you by Drs. Matt Gourley, Jeremy Carter, Mark McConville, and Paul F. Tompkins.

Guest appearances by Patton Oswalt, Neko Case, John Hodgman, Jason Sudeikis, Greg Proops, Erinn Hayes, Andy Daly, Kristen Schaal, Thomas Lennon, and many more. SUPEREGO: PAST SEASONS and BONUS EPISODES available at goSuperego.com.
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