|
Terry Bozzio (drums, background vocals) |
|
Davey Moire (vocals) |
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Andre Lewis (organ, vocals) |
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Roy Estrada (bass, vocals) |
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Dave Parlato (bass) |
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Napoleon Murphy |
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Brock (saxophone, vocals) |
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Ruth Underwood (synthesizer, marimba) |
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Donnie Vliet (harmonica) |
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Louanne Neil (harp) |
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Ruben Ladron |
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De Guevara (background vocals) |
|
Sharkie Barker (background vocals) |
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Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair |
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Prisoners grumble and piss their clothes and scratch their matted hair |
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A tiny light from a window hole a hundred yards away |
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Is all they ever get to know about the regular life in the day; |
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An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin' ' |
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N weepin' greenish drops |
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In the room where the giant fire puffer works ' |
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N the torture never stops |
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The torture never stops |
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Slime 'n rot, rats 'n snot 'n vomit on the floor |
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Fifty ugly soldiers, man, holdin' spears by the iron door |
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Knives 'n spikes 'n guns 'n the likes of every tool of pain |
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An' a sinister midget with a bucket an' a mop where the blood goes down the drain; |
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An' it stinks so bad the stones been chokin' ' |
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N weepin' greenish drops |
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In the room where the giant fire puffer works ' |
|
N the torture never stops |
|
The torture never stops |
|
The torture |
|
The torture |
|
The torture never stops. |
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Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair |
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An evil prince eats a steamin' pig in a chamber right near there |
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He eats the snouts 'n the trotters first |
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The loin's 'n the groin's is soon dispersed |
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His carvin' style is well rehearsed |
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He stands and shouts |
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All men be cursed |
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All men be cursed |
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All men be cursed |
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All men be cursed |
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And disagree, well no-one durst |
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He's the best of course of all the worst |
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Some wrong been done, he done it first (Well, well) |
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An' he stinks so bad, his bones been chokin' (Yeah) ' |
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N weepin' greenish drops, (Well) |
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In the night of the iron sausage, (Well) |
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Where the torture never stops |
|
The torture never stops |
|
The torture |
|
The torture |
|
The torture never stops. |
|
Flies all green 'n buzzin' in his dungeon of despair |
|
Who are all those people that he's locked away up there |
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Are they crazy?, |
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Are they sainted? |
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Are they zeros someone painted?, |
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It has never been explained since at first it was created |
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But a dungeon like a sin |
|
Requires naught but lockin' in |
|
Of everything that's ever been |
|
Look at hers |
|
Look at him |
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That's what's the deal we're dealing in |
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That's what's the deal we're dealing in |
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That's what's the deal we're dealing in |
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That's what's the deal we're dealing in |