now anyone can write bad poetry...

here's some of my favorite lyrics. lemme know what you think. i'll give background on them as i go along... What if Paul May was A Trucker?!Well I was heading on down that highway, down interstate 55. I just dropped my load in Hammond and I gotta be in Tuscaloosa by 9. I got some old coffee in Crosby, and I got hookers on CB. But I tip my hat to those truckstop girls, man they think the world of me. Yeah, oh yeah… I’m sold. Yeeeeeeeeeah you can’t keep me off that road…. And although I keep on rolling I can never go home. Because it’s life out in them trenches, momma, out on that road. Is this just the ending, end is just beginning, 18 wheels a-spinning, end is just beginning.. Man, motherfucker. When the road hits the rubber. I may look like Willie Nelson, but I’m fifty years younger. I can sit around and wonder if he had a little brother. Maybe that was me and gypsies came and took me down under. Was it LSD, methamphetamines, huffing gasoline, or too much caffeine. I’m just a blip on that state troopers radar screen and I’m traveling at a speed that he would never believe. this song was actually written on the premise that my friend Paul May became a truck driver. I don't believe he's ruled it out. Technically the lyrics were just written about a misc. trucker, but since Paul wrote the song that accompanies the lyrics, he got stuck with the moniker... Spawn Of The Hell Beast While she sits at home, She sits alone and beats back down, but I should have know better, all alone, She was out fronting from the get go. Why don’t we go back to my place, Watch some old THRASHER tapes, And go and huff some freon from my air condition tanks. EVIL!!! Come on kids, it’s time to bang your heads. It’s time to tear some holes in your pants, sew patches on your threads. Oh yes it’s time. Time to get pissed off. Listen to metal and kill yourself. Cuz that’s what music was all about back in them good ole days. Hey, look at me. I can play guitar like Kerry King. I can draw that logo perfectly, and I sound like Hetfield when I sing. Yeah yeah. Down, not done for very long. We can play any Green Day song. Make it sound completely wrong but there was a time. All the kids in school will never understand that since Cobain has killed himself I wear my black arm band, but yes it’s time… Time to bring it back. That heavy metal style you lack. It’s time to grow your hair out and dye it black. So we’re left alone to make ourselves the enemy. If I could have only seen the future when I was fourteen. Why don’t we go back to my place, and drink some hot Café’ Au Lait. We can drink it straight from the ceramic mugs I made! credit this last song to the old school. remember back when kids would listen to a Metallica song, and then blow their heads off? that was great. i hint around some old Slayer references in this tune. Even the title of it is a little foreboding though it has nothing to do with the song. I could draw Slayer's logo perfectly though. in fact i still can... Redneck Kumate well i like racecars, a little country guitar a budweiser in my hand while i chill at the bar and i swear judge genius never carried a gun but still full of piss and vinegar and hard as they come i'm like a full throttled engine with the line in the red full of beers and shifting gears to the noise in my head and with the pedal to the metal i explode in the night and leave your sister in tears by the sight of my break lights showdown, sixty five - the speed limit that i'm drivin'.. . with my clinched fists in the shadow of the dashboard lighting i''ll testify, that in my life, when my battery has died they're gonna bury me in the junkyard walls, with my engine by my side i turn my key, every body waiting for me to explode engine roars into submission and i know i've got to go... have a beer. my gut is full i'm gonna go ride that mechanical bull and we can fly so high, i never wanna die. showdown, sixty five - the speed limit that i'm drivin'… with my clinched fists in the shadow of the dashboard lighting i''ll testify, that in my life, when my battery has died they're gonna bury me in the junkyard walls, with my engine by my side the engine roars, budweiser pours... and i'm never gonna die in your redneck war. this song is about how damaged my soul is and about how nobody loves me and how i'm so tortured. not really. it's about beer and trucks. i like beer and engines and boobs. this ditty is going out to them. thank you beer, engines, and boobs. if you wanna hear some of these songs, check out my band's myspace at www.myspace.com/judgegenius and feel free to comment.