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Smells Like Dead Haggis

Words and Music: © 1999 by Tom Smith
What we got here is a preview, a song from the upcoming-I-swear-to-God-we-actually-will-record-it-someday album Deep Fried Lemurs Present: WTMI. I promise you that, even though lyrically it's a Nirvana pastiche, you have not heard anything like this before. Until the actual music is recorded, however, feel free to sing it to "Smells Like Teen Spirit".

Last week I used a sock for a rag,
Last month my dog took me for a drag,
It all ends up in the laundry bag,
I look inside and start to gag.

These clothes have lain here on the floor,
Untouched for three weeks, maybe more,
My dog comes in, catches the spoor,
And then runs right back out the door.

And the clothing, it starts moving,
The aroma's not improving,
My gut's heaving, my mind's reeling,
Plants are dying, paint is peeling.

When I come to, my clothes are gone,
They've burned a path across the lawn.
I go out to chase this hell spawn,
My neighbors stare, I've nothing on.

I follow a trail of random fires,
Of twisted steel, downed telephone wires,
For his car, my friend had some buyers,
But my clothes' odor ate his tires.

At the laundry's where the bag is,
They said "Claim it" or they'll frag us,
But we don't know where the tag is,
And it all smells like dead haggis.

My home's damaged, I've lost Rover,
Off to Target, I'll start over,
Where's the towels? Where's the towels?
Where's the towels? Where's the towels?

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