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Grandma On The Menu
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This is the other track from the "Kacktas Town" EP, now your collection is complete! This is a neat little tale of incest, cannibalism, enforced cross dressing, sodomy and murder.
punk rock ska metal country lofi bush underground death drugs funny ass tango star smoke extreme crap bad drunk whiskey cover wrestling ugly wrong buckweet monkey drink
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Tired of the sky being plagued by the grizzling thrush and the sea cursed by the emo fish? Come with us to a land where nurses smell of cigarettes and satsumas
To paraphrase the words of Winston Churchill "Never has a band meant so little to so many", that is until now. Hailing from the incestuous zoo of Kacktas Town, Buckweet have been met with hostility, ignorance, derisory hand gestures and flailing fists of rejected harlots hence their relocation to merrie ol' England. Once upon these damp and listless shores they quickly attained the reputation of being charlatans and musicians in that order and thus have been excluded from many of the music scenes due to their inability and refusal to be pigeonholed into a genre. Infusing the heartbreak of country with the abject misery of doom wrapped in the joyful exhuberence of ska not without touching upon funk, motown, jazz and bluegrass they have created a sound all their own they call "kuntry". And yes, it's as bad and reckless as it sounds. Despite an almost Spinal Tap-esque recruitment and loss of musicians and general wronguns they have played but few gigs on this side of the pond but with the support of you all they'll be able to afford not to have to auction their internal organs on e-bay. Featuring an unshakeable core element of brothers Jed (vocals/guitar) and Earl Valentine (drums) along with Cleveland Van Der Valk (guitar), El Stitchmungo (something or other) and bass beast Wishbone LaRoue they have been joined by many friends and former shady associates in rehearsals which has culminated in very little tangible material but with these distractions put to one side they have finaly managed to create the album that the world needed to hear, namely "MUSIC TO BEAT YOUR WIFE TO". It may be uncomfortable to listen to, it may seem like an aural haemorhage but when faced with a challenge Buckweet do what any self respecting man would do - run away. Formed at some point in 2003 they struggled for many a moon to find structure or purpose in what they did but when those who couldn't play were fired or married off to lecherous accountants the remaining few soon found resolution. If nothing they did would make a difference to anyone then they should do whatever they wanted regardless of consequence. Despite the ridicule and broken limbs they have continued to forge ahead despite what relatives or common sense would have them believe and are ready to conquer the musical world. Problem is, is the world ready for Buckweet? "Of course it is" I hear you cry "don't be so retarded". BUCKWEET - SHITTING FISTS OF PUSSY SINCE 2003!!!!!!
Song Info
Charts
#8,250 today Peak #43
#1,579 in subgenre Peak #9
Author
Caleb Valentine/ Earl Valentine/ Wishbone
Rights
Wrongun Records
Uploaded
July 15, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.5 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
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Lyrics
When I was a young boy my parents were so drunk They couldn't looke after themselves let alone their son Fucked soon after sunrise they were such a mess They thought it was funny sending me to school in a dress So my grandparents took over they came down to stay And like all unwanted relatives they wouldn't go away They saw me in my dress and said "Why couldn't you iron it first?" Now I couldn't leave my room without heels and a skirt This went on forever they treated me so mean Grampa even taught me how to take on for the team That is not important this story's so much more Than being spanked for spilling tea upon my pinafore (chorus) Grandma on the menu It's what she would've wanted To spend her days not in her grave But trussed and slightly salted Grandma on the menu She'd love to see us now And as I bit into her tit It thought "That stupid cow" My parents were so out of it they couldn't even cook The cupboards were all empty I was sick of eating books So grampa went out hunting after sinking fifteen beers The only thing he ever shot were small rodents and queers We had a pie made out of raccoon and homosexual But with thanksgiving approaching we needed something special Next morning I came down the stairs to see the cooker on Grampa was covered in blood and grandmamma was gone I opened up the oven door and much to my surprise There lay the aging asshole with gravy in her eyes I said to my grandaddy "Why is grandma in the oven?" He said to me "Shut up and make thirty pounds of stuffing" (chorus) So I shoved this sage and onion up a certain orifice I must admit that I got hard when I stole from her a kiss I know for thanksgiving most folks'll have a turkey But she's so old her beef curtains have now turned to jerky We sat down to dinner and grampa he said grace We were just about to tuck in when he had this look upon his face I had on my dress of gingham I was in my sunday best Pink ribbon in my hair that bitch I'd soon digest But I wore my green stilettos and they really clashed So grampa locked me in the shed to feast on coal and ash Three days later he let me out my lesson learnt with gall There were just leftovers and a slightly singed brown shawl He left me some rump roast, some giblets and some breast As I ate he told me of the joys of incest (chorus) A recipe he found out while down in Carolina Always use sheep gravy when basting a vagina For tenderising portions he suggests using a shovel He thinks he is a genius I don't want to burst his bubble With christmas coming near we neede something else Well lookee here ol' grampa's left his gun upon the shelf Perhaps if I use it he'd open up his heart Quite literally I hoped so I shot him in the bath A salad I think to go with his boiled bollock stew I can't wait to shit him out and mail it to you Now I'm free from them but I just confess I still like to be beaten in my new wedding dress (chorus)
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