DANCE CLUB MASSACRE LYRICS
album: "Circle of Death" (2008)
1. Risk Is My Business...And Business Is Risky2. Brewtality
3. Ode to the Barracuda
4. Shenanigans
5. Return of the Blood Monsters
6. Have You Ever Chopped A Wolf?
7. Deuces Shoeless vs The Double Dribbles
8. Hoosh Hoosh
9. Countdown to Annihilation
10. Who Are You, And What Have You Done With Six?
1. Risk Is My Business...And Business Is Risky
In a world divided by color. There is only one objective - World domination.
A new Monday night war is upon us, my friends. Six men will partake in unmerciful tyranny. A single roll to see who will draw the first blood. This is the new apocalypse.
Striving to link empires as the game ensues. Allies will be formed and broken. In due time there will be total eliminations.
In this case guitar hero is set up in limbo. I shall survive. Brazil has been touched and gotten by the North African bridge. Now...Alaska to Kamtchatka you asshole. Alaska to Kamchatka. I’m on a hot roll.
Put on the epic track. This could get ugly.
The champagne awaits the fall of your campaign.
My friend, my enemy for a day.
Defense is key, but with out guts comes no glory.
In this case, its Global Guts.
Mike O’Malley will tell ya, I’ve got the the know how, the power. Upon the top of the agrokrag, I’ve stood victorious.
The Ukraine is not weak. Ukraine is not feeble. Backed into a corner of death. Fighting off every front that surrounds me.
No guts no glory.
Fighting, rolling, split up the seeds, reform in cavalry. Fighting, rolling spread the disease. Power in numbers prevails overseas.
Fighting, rolling, split up the seeds, reform in cavalry. Fighting, rolling, spread the disease, spill your guts.
2. Brewtality
I'd like to propose another toast for the gents and gentiles.
Yes we swallow, regurgitate, high five, but from our troughs comes enlightenment for at least 5 and a half hours.
4 with the hour of power.
They say the sheep have been abandoned by their shepherd.
It was the wolves that took him.
In packs of 6, 12, maybe 30.
No chance of retaining his field.
Pity for who? The flock or the victim?
With this a new world order is upon us.
To prepare, they will fight for president, vice, and so forth to the route in which assholes are doomed.
Pick up the pace, refill the glass.
The stakes get higher as the population grows.
And soon this world will be spinning faster than you can cope with.
The sinners sway from side to side with no remorse.
The virgins marry us with pride in the disco room, be cool.
Now bestowed amongst kings and queens, much like in Roman times, the gladiators gather around a circle of death.
Choose each tactic wisely baby.
You don't want to go down in flames.
With balance and precision you could stay on top of the can.
One fatal move and you're history.
3. Ode to the Barracuda
Our story ends with a signature for something I'll never be.
But it didn't have to be this way.
Your uniform was no different from the rest but you were cool, so here's a brand new song just for you.
It all began when I saw your face from the stage then your blood was drawn upon my command.
The return:
When you say you want some more.
No problemo.
Everything is cool, but I just can't bring myself to say "why don't you go fuck yourself."
The room is spinning as I'm down on the floor.
At least down here you won't bother me no more.
The words you speak are perfectly clear, so I guess I'll have myself another beer.
Now you've got yourself a girlfriend.
Well...a dude who wears girl pants.
Nonetheless it's safe to say he's a dork.
Funny how you hate the ska yet it reminds me of you everyday.
They say there's plenty of fish in the sea.
Alas this is true.
I've reeled in a few.
Baby minnows at the most so I throw them back in.
But what do you do when you catch the biggest fish of them all?
Now I could swim for years and never get tired.
But I assure you if I ever come across your boat one more time, I'll steal the bait.
And leave you waiting.
The words you spoke were crystal clear, now I think I'll go have another beer.
4. Shenanigans
Let's get drunk.
The troops are assembled and ordered to loosen their ties.
For on this sabbath day, the fortress is ours.
Every hour the shot heard around the world is shot by the likes of Jack or Jose.
What is this place you ask?
It's where we resurrect ourselves from one week ago.
Free roam.
Everything is ours.
What is this place you ask?
It's Shannon's pub.
Who wants to be immortal?
Who wants to drink from the Fountain of Youth?
Who wants free food and arcade golf?
With this treasure you'll never ever grow old.
The rules are simple, gentlemen.
Once you walk through those doors there's no way out.
And there's no last call in this port.
Everyone is the captain and they abide the code.
So when this ship has sunk, well then so will I, with honor and my fill.
With no rules it's like Camp Nowhere without the Lloyd of course.
But then again, maybe we should get the doc.
This way we can go back in time and relive the memories of when we rocked the house.
Where everybody knows your name.
And they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see.
Our troubles are all the same.
You wanna be where everybody knows your name.
5. Return of the Blood Monsters
6. Have You Ever Chopped A Wolf?
One night road trip to Chicago.
I drove down with my friends.
This is our last chance for grace.
For starters we'll dine with what we thought to be kings and queens.
Turned out to be just Palumbo.
Well here we are the Westin Palace, wild packs spread out in the lobby.
We chose a different route, the bar.
Would ya look at this?
The enforcer, the champ, mid-carders galore.
How did we end up here?
This can't be real.
I'm doing shots and bumping elbows with the whole damn show.
The bar is closed yet we're still here.
On this night we're one of them.
Finally that wheelin' dealin' (kiss stealin') limousine-ridin', jet flying (stylin' and profilin') son of a gun makes his entrance.
The entire pack howl in his presence in respect.
This party has now officially begun.
One week before the king steps down from his throne.
So long, nature boy.
7. Deuces Shoeless vs The Double Dribbles
Simply the greatest game of all time.
A 5 on 5 b-ball extravaganza.
Mitch and I shall be team captains and select the best from the best.
In my first pick at power forward I choose the Samoan bulldozer Umaga.
In retaliation Mitch boosts his defense and steals with the Repo Man.
Fortunately enough I receive Jimmy Snuk for the distant shots, and Kamala as a towering center.
Now Mitch has chosen Too Cold Scorpio and D'Lo Brown.
But I know who knows the real low down.
Mr. Fuji shall play the perimeter on my shoeless team.
Mitch scrambles Santino Marella.
He thinks this is his casa.
Well a certain necro butcher thinks otherwise.
Poor shock master is with Mitch by default.
No one likes to be picked last.
In a game of razzle dazzle- jukes, spins, blood sweat and tears have flooded the court.
In the final showdown, with 5 seconds left on the clock, my main man Mr. Fuji hits a fade away shot on the 9 point spot to win the game.
Shoeless warriors of mine....
To the bar, drinks on me.
Fuck you Mitch.
8. Hoosh Hoosh
We've got the bags, the beers and the babes.
Soaking grilled meat in the summer air breeze.
Hoosh hoosh we all boogey on down hoosh the beers on ice.
Here she comes, in a two piece suit.
The kinda girl you tip your shades down for a better view.
Play it cool, do a cannonball or a moonsault in to the water.
Hoosh hoosh we all boogey on down hoosh hooosh the beers on ice.
No worries.
Snoops on the boom box.
I'm a sole survivor senorita.
I'm the creme de la creme.
I've got the goods and I can plainly see you do too.
I have some hip hop songs memorized and an ice cold beverage, I'm cool.
It's always cool in the summertime.
Brewskies in the coozies.
Bags on board, but who's keeping score?
The sun has died, so let's torch the sky now.
The deuce is loose in the place to be always the place to be.
Receive, process, and destroy.
Touch 'em and get 'em.
Hoosh hoosh.
Old style all the while.
Hoosh we all fall down.
Hoosh hoosh.
The beers on ice.
9. Countdown to Annihilation
Make some noise party people.
It's the grand finale.
At center stage where the invitational is endless.
Times due to look our best.
Put on your best shirt and slacks, ladies.
Oh yeah sweet sizzlin' sassy girls.
The fridge is full so make haste and get on with your bad selves.
Grab your dates and your entry numbers.
This rumble is about to get messy.
The countdown has begun.
Sweating simultaneously in one room.
Twist if you must.
Shout if you dare.
But damsels and villains both beware.
It's time, it's time...to raise your glasses high.
To Auld Lang Syne my dear, and a happy new year.
This jig is just for you.
Do what you must, but I won't tell.
These lips are sealed.
To Auld Lang Syne my dear.
And a happy new year
10. Who Are You, And What Have You Done With Six?
In the wonder years I was in my own domain.
Thrashing to Phil, and Mustaine.
Then I picked up a CD with a pair of breasts wrapped in barbed wire.
This day will go down in infamy.
There was no dress code.
No clique to separate the men, women, and children.
My own kind of club.
Good times and great memories like the classic cabana.
The wine was fine and the trumpets ranged.
And upon rekindling this deathly siege things weren't exactly the same.
Now I travel apart of the team.
The teams been sold to the Devil himself.
You'd think he would know what to do, the anthems devoted to his dynasty are portrayed yet sabotaged.
Who's got the time for team spirit nowadays?
I don't feel quite at home.
I'm brand new.
This isn't where I thought I was going.
This place is not the same as I left it.
The old me would kick the new me's ass if he wasn't shorter.
What's with the new style?
Where were the chicks when I was dope?
But I guess it's OK.
Like Ben said, 200 solemn faces are you.
And underground I feel cool in my youth, which by the way has passed, but I'm still cool.
Check me out, I'm rocking the house.
I'd hope Dimmu would be proud.
And underground I feel cool in my youth, which by the way has passed, but I'm still cool.
Nick Seger - Vocals
Mitch Hein - Guitars
Chris Mrozek - Bass
Jon Caruso - Drums
Matt Hynek - Keyboards
Mitch Hein - Guitars
Chris Mrozek - Bass
Jon Caruso - Drums
Matt Hynek - Keyboards
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DANCE CLUB MASSACRE LYRICS
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