White Trash Folk: Boom-Boom Lyrics and Music by Rick Shelton 1 strike 2 strike 3 strike 4 Mikey’s in the basement and he’s cookin’ up some more He’s got his ol’ lady’s little dog shaking in the back Its coat’s turned green since they moved into this shack Mikey fills prescriptions in his little dark room He filled them too fast and then the trailer went BOOM The mess was so big you couldn’t sweep it with a broom Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! 1 chant 2 chant shoutin’ out loud Mikey’s little robe is just as white as a cloud He’s got a crooked little cross banded scarlet on his arm He says he’s gonna get’cha but he won’t do no harm Burned his cross so bright in the blanket of the night That he woke up with his bed in ashes on his right Torched the whole trailer, now there’s nothing left in sight Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! 1 potato 2 potato 3 potato chips Mikey’s taking pictures of all the little kids He’s got a big van belching out black and gray smog He’ll give you a lollipop if you help him find his dog Bodies in the basement, sleeping under floor Woke up to the FBI busting down his door Hauled him off and said “You ain’t a free man no more!” Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! 1 bitch 2 butch bunkmate gin Mikey’s doing 25 to life in the pen He’s got his commissary smokes and a toilet full of wine He’s lookin’ for Jesus to help cut down his time Once the 22nd of June rolls around He’ll be up for parole and might be comin’ to your town And you’ll know that’s ol’ Mikey when you hear the boomin’ sound Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom! Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a Boom-boom!

White Trash Folk: Alone Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton The chair it squeaks in protest Saying “I’ll move for no man” And the dust that’s settled on surfaces adds “Hey I’m good where I am” Peering out into the twilight The window lets go of a sigh Feeling its age and cracking its neck The faucet feels ready to cry And they’re all alone, They’re all alone This house ain’t no home, when they’re all alone Yeah they’re all alone Magazines piled in tribute To a childhood left out in the rain All muddied and tracked with yesterday’s prints Dried into forgettable stains And they’re all alone Nick-nacks and paddy-whacks and dog bones And other cluttered forget-me-nots In the back room are congregating in mourning Past air balls and missed big shots Saying this house ain’t no home And we’re all alone Another failed intervention By the shirts hanging over the door Leads to a blood orgy of wrinkled old fragments Of closet spilled out on the floor ‘Cause he just can’t take it no more And he’s all alone Photograph albums turned yellow A tomb of a tome of regret For his mother, his father, his sons and his daughters It shoots a look he’ll not forget From the pages all snotty and wet Sobbing we’re all alone, we’re all alone This house ain’t no home, when we’re all alone We’re all alone Yeah, we’re all alone

White Trash Folk - Escape Velocity Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton 7 miles per a second 420 miles in a minute 25,200 miles per hour 604,800 miles in a day But 62 miles is all I've got to reach Oh-oh escape velocity is all I need to achieve To get me right the hell out of here I've burned my bridges, smoked out some witches, Then I gave away & went &spent up almost all of my riches And yet I still can't bite back this fear I have cast my vote that I will try to abstain There's nothing I can do to make sense of this plane I'm gonna need to guns for this one To ensure total irradication of my brains I'll need two guns to blow out all of my brains Or maybe, just maybe I can escape 7 miles per a second 420 miles in a minute 25,200 miles per hour 604,800 miles in a day Only just under 9 seconds to go Trust your mechanics and doctors from the heart They fix you up real nice, "See you next week for the next part" I'm sick of these pushers, car dealers, shady pimps, and dirty whores And I don't wanna live on this planet anymore No, I want to go 7 miles per a second 420 miles in a minute 25,200 miles per hour 604,800 miles in a day

‘Merica! By White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton It isn’t easy always being on top No it ain’t easy calling all the shots It’s not easy always being the alpha dog It ain’t easy being the wheel to all you cogs, but I I’ll make all the decisions, even the ones against my own interest I will decide who gets to live, who gets to die I’ve got the biggest balls so I will make all the calls Challenge my authority, you’ll find you’re the minority, because My mom can beat up your mom, my dad can beat up your dad My dog can beat up your dog too My friends can beat up your friends, my kids can beat up your kids And my God can beat up your God too, Beat up your God too I’ve got you covered when it comes to how to live Don’t bother with advice, it’s orders that I give And I will take all the help I can get Just don’t expect return compensation for any of it Ignore my noise pollution, or face my final solution My time is of the greatest worth and I’m busy building hell on Earth I’ve followed the plan by the book, and my foundation can’t be shook Though it’s hard to see beyond my nose just where it is this wild goose goes and My mom can beat up your mom, my dad can beat up your dad My dog can beat up your dog too My friends can beat up your friends, my kids can beat up your kids My God can beat up your God too, Yeah My mom can beat up your mom, my dad can beat up your dad My song can beat up your song too My guns can beat up your guns, My boots can beat up your boots My God can beat up your God too My friends can beat up your friends, my kids can beat up your kids My Job can beat up your Job too My church can beat up your church, my book can beat up your book And my God can beat up your God too, Beat up your God too!

Numb by White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton I'm all out of motivation My drive has taken off it’s gone and it's left me here I'm too knocked out for navigation So I sit back and I let the auto-pilot steer So what's the worst thing that could happen? Most likely it's nothing at all I've fallen too far for to climb back up And I've climbed far too high for to fall (Riff, repeat verse progression) It seems I'm out of desperation My inherent will is gone and it won't come back I'm too choked up for conversation My tongue is twisted and my lips are brittle cracks So what's the worst thing that could happen? Most likely it's something so small I've fallen too far for to climb back up And I've climbed far too high for to fall *This is where I start playing the riff as power chords (Riff, repeat verse progression) I'm too far gone for salutations I've lost my hello's and goodbye's in a single wave I'm filled with passive aggravations Someone has wrecked all of my back roads that should not be paved But what's the worst thing that could happen? When you quit the game you can't drop the ball I've fallen too far for to climb back up And I've climbed far too high for to fall

Stupid Questions By White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton There was a man lived on my road, cancer was eating at his throat And his insides and he lived in pain each day and every night Hospice made him comfortable for a few months then disposable He became just because he wouldn’t die on time So they took his 02 machine, and pain meds, and said goodbye If we lived in Great Britain, or Canada, or Sweden Universal health care would take care (Of him) But we live in the good ol’ US of A Where you don’t get to live if you can’t pay It’s survival of the richest and their heirs Should having good health be a human right? Should we all pay to help our neighbors fight for their lives? In the face of logic, tragedy and crimes… How are these still questions in our times? How are these still questions in our times? My friend Nikki wanted the right to influence her health and life And to choose whether or not to create on, and at what time She got pregnant anyway her Doctor said, “If you carry all the way To term, it’s certain you or the child will die,” “But doing anything to save you is illegal,” he sighed. If she lived in Belgium, or Tunisia, or Sweden A woman’s choice would find her still walking this Earth But Rich white men all have a book whose words’ foundation won’t be shook So both Heather and her baby died while she gave birth When it comes to their body and life, should women have a voice? Should powerful men get to stand between every female and her choice? In the face of logic, tragedy, and crimes… How are these still questions in our times? HOW are these still questions in our times?

American Dream by White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton Waking up with bowl in hand I survey the mountain of empty cans And I can see that things are not quite what they seem Take a little trip to the kitchen sink Move the dishes so I can take a leak And that's when I realize this is the American dream Forgot to go shopping for a month So it's ramen and canned cream corn for lunch But that's alright, because I'll likely drink my dinner tonight I'm probably gonna die when I'm 43 But that doesn't really bother me I've not helped anyone but I've had my fun alright I'm wasted and I'm wasting the best years of my life while you were busy saving up I was barely scraping by I'm wasting and I've wasted the last decade of mine Go ahead and go grow up I'm gonna stay here just getting high And tryin' to get bye And wondering why Got my link card so I can always eat 10 dollar Wal Mart shoes on my feet One more stamp on my card and I get a free McCafe None of this is my fault, you see I'm just a victim of locality And I never asked to be here, it's just always been that way I don’t read I don’t write or think for myself I take pills by the pound for my mental health And I form all my views by watching Fox News all day But the longer I stare at this half empty cup The more I think maybe I should just give up If life’s a gift, what’s the return policy anyway? I'm wasted and I'm wasting the best years of my life while you were saving up I was barely scraping by I'm wasting and I've wasted the last decade mine Go ahead and go grow up I'm gonna stay here just getting high And tryin' to get bye And wondering why I’m wasting my life

White Trash Folk: Donor Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton Another day, another “X” This calendar’s become my hex I’m reminded that I always play the fool You say you’ll visit & say you’ll call But with each new cross upon this wall I’m reminded that you’re so selfish and cruel And I lie awake at night Replaying each embittered fight And I wonder should I ask you here to stay Or should I tell you “please just go away” Once upon a time she would Look to me like no babe should With eyes so large and wet and full of fright She wondered why you were not there To rub her back and kiss her hair And whisper lullabies and sweet goodnights Yet even with her brilliant mind She couldn’t comprehend your crimes Until “mother” became just another dirty word Now there’s no pain in her chest But still I wonder if it’s best Or if her aloof demeanor’s just absurd And I lie awake at night Replaying each embittered fight And I wonder should I ask you here to stay Or should I tell you “please just go away” Now I watch her run & laugh & play And greet each new awaking day Like it’s her last or the first she’d ever seen I feel her love and hear her cries And with each one I realize More and more now you’re nothing but an old bad dream And I lie awake at night Replaying each embittered fight And I wonder should I ask you here to stay Or should I tell you “please just go away” Yes I wonder should I ask you here to stay Or should I tell you “please just go away”… Oh, just go away.

Truth Is Stranger Than Depiction by White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about life And wondering what it all means But I’m still not sure if any of it is real Or if it’s all just another bad dream One possible conclusion is it’s an illusion And you’re all figments of my imagination, and this station Doesn’t seem to have a clear train of thought out of this State of confusion that I’ve disillusioned myself into With a fusion of consciousness and uncertainty And it’s blinding me, caught up in a net of lies in an ocean of Truth is a relative concept Based on experience and perception When so many choose to neglect Basically you’re fucked from the moment of conception Until your expiration date Late at night my mind makes allusion to a revolution Who couldn’t have guessed as much? But it’s thoughts like that that make me question my knack For pulling out the slack and keeping my mind in touch With reality, because from what I’ve seen Revolution’s nothing more than a waning pipe dream And it’s frightening how enlightening it can be Just to give the fuck up I want to give the fuck up Because the world’s controlled by people Treating people like they’re not people And doing all they can to cover up the proof And I want to free the people from the people that aren’t people But I don’t even know how without having a way to show the people the Truth is a relative concept Based on experience and perception When so many choose to forget Basically you’re fucked from the moment of conception Until your expiration date

White Trash Folk: Role Models Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton Little girl thinks she Has to be as perfect as the Pages in her magazines and Pictures on her TV screen They’re a lie, Made-up and all make-believe Put there by the boogeymen To make her want to be like them You can’t deny it, but you ignore it every time Pretty dolls, pretty Posters, pretty role models Tell her “Self-esteem can make you choke” With their fingers down her pretty throat She feels ashamed Behind her mask of facial paint Scarlet tears run down her leg Wet kisses from her razor blade She can’t deny them, but she’ll try to hide them every time I want to see the make-up kits And diet pills around her room Glowing in the backyard Belching blackened smoke and toxic fumes Every day, they reiterate “She’ll never love, she’s too ugly” I wish she’d tell them to fuck off Because she’s beautiful to me Little boy, looking In the mirror, feeling weak He isn’t good at sports He’s got bad posture and crooked teeth They beat him down And beat him out of Illinois Just because he dresses weird and Gets turned on by other boys You can’t deny it, but you despise it every time GI Joes, football posters Handsome role models Tell him “Confidence can make you sweat” With an extension chord around his neck He feels alone Pale complexion, skin and bones Putting on his favorite song He eats the pills that make him strong He can’t deny it, but he could spite it if he tried I want to see the protein shakes And steroids lying his room Glowing in the backyard Belching blackened smoke and toxic fumes Every day, they reiterate “He’s a stupid, faggot, pussy, freak” I wish he’d tell them to eat shit Because he’s fucking cool to me Little girl, their words can cut you deep but it’s up to you If they leave behind a scar Little boy, they can knock you down, but if you get back up You can go so so far You can’t deny it, take one good look and you’ll see It’s really THEM that are so goddamn ugly You could hide it, but if you fight it you’ll be free Because you’re fucking cool to me You can’t deny it, but you can spite it you’ll see It’s them that are so damn ugly And you’re beautiful to me

White Trash Folk/Derek Fuller: "Bridges" Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton and Derek Fuller Foundations crumble, and houses they fall down Even ghosts can go and leave nothing in this town The water may rise, but the tides always fade away And flowers bloom, but they've gotta turn brown again some day So we'll pack our bags, I'll head West if you go East It's not such an easy thing, no not in the very least So go follow the sunrise, and I will go chase the moon Maybe we'll meet again but not so very soon If you don't burn a few bridges You'll just keep walking the same old roads And where the path untraveled leads to Is a future you'll never know So put the match to timbers Reduce that bridge to embers And don't forget to laugh while you're watching it burn No don't forget to laugh while you're watching it burn The leaves they fall but they always grow back again A man can't be truly good, until he's has his share of sin The sun gave us life, some day it will burn us all Like mountains standing strong, we can still crumble and fall Was it one of Time's oldest secrets, that dug into our hearts And kept us all growing, until we grew so far apart? Did we stay up too late, or have one too many epiphanies, Or stare too hard out at the ocean, until we drifted like the seas? If you don't burn a few bridges You'll just keep walking the same old roads And where the path untraveled leads to Is a future you'll never know So put the match to timbers Reduce that bridge to embers And don't forget to laugh while you're watching it burn No don't forget to laugh while you're watching it burn Please think of me and laugh while you're watching it burn

Sirens by White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton We stood on the edge of town I’ll never forget the sound Of the sirens and screams As that old barn burned down to the ground And the embers fell like summertime snow all around All the people stood side by side And I wept when my mama cried And she said, “It’s okay my son, There was no one trapped inside.” But as the people around me fell to their knees I knew that mama lied Ain’t it funny how the peacocks scream just like people As they burn alive In the paper that Sunday A list of all the lives and history now blown away And their memories slowly start to fade Like ashes on the weeping wind of yesterday I was walking on the edge of town I’ll never forget the sound Of the sirens and cries As that ambulance raced down To your street and it parked outside your house I remembered in seventh grade We had a Valentine’s Day date And we took so much shit For being from different race I told you to never give a damn about Any of them in the first place At your funeral that Sunday Your grandmother and I spoke of how you passed away You let them get in your head Smoked a whole pack of Reds, then passed out in your bed Asthma got you again Now your memory slowly starts to fade Like ashes on the weeping wind of yesterday

It Could Have Been Worse by White Trash Folk Lyrics and Music © Rick Shelton I stand before you a man wasted Stripped and naked, to the bare bones of my soul The Universe knows I’ve done some terrible things in my life And I’ve taken some terrible things as a toll I’ve been mocked and beaten, had a gun held to my head I’ve been held down and fucked in the dirt As the shoved my face down harder screaming faggot and queer I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, even though it hurt I knew what they did was so fucking wrong That for once, I wish I’d told my mom Because she might have actually finally stood up for me A few years later I started to question my church Mysterious ways weren’t enough for me The kids in my bible class were so goddamned wicked and cruel They’d say “No one could love someone so damn ugly” The very last time I ever stepped foot into that place They apologized and invited me to their games upstairs But then they pulled my pants down in front of the girls -and kicked the shit out of me And said “Go run and tell! No one fucking cares!” The pain hurt so fucking bad That for once, I wish I’d told my dad Because he might have actually finally stood up for me But it could have been worse