The F’ed Up Blues

I got the f’ed up blues
I got the f’ed up blues
Lord what can you do?
About the f-in’ f’ed up blues

Well the beans have been baking
Upon the camels hump
Like a voodoo curse
In an old lady’s purse
Confetti on my grave

I got the f’ed up blues
I got the f’ed up blues
Lord what can you do?

I got the f’ed up blues
I got the f’ed up blues
Lord what can you do?
About the f-in f’ed up blues

I woke up on the futon
And my boots were on fire…

Special People
Special people all the time
Special people on my mind
Special people burning’ white
Special people gettin’ all uptight
Special people kiss my soul
Special people take control
Special people lick the ground
Special people run up and down
Special people squeeze the breeze
Special people slash their knees
Special people soak up fire
Special people climbing’ higher
Special people create belief
Special people steal some beef
Special people don’t need your plans
Special people got recycling cans
Special people got songs to sing
Special people are happening
Special people stomping’ fast
Special people hauling’ ass
Special people are so sincere
Special people got special beer
Special people flick the grease
Special people come in peace
Special people will scrimp and save
Special people will never bathe
Special people in hot pursuit
Special people got the boot
Special people sleep in moss
Special people got the sauce
Special people open wide
Special people ain’t satisfied