A Song
                          By: PiP the Angry Youth




Rubber Band Suicide

  Two years ago I was really really bored, so I decided to go over to my
friend Bob's house and just hang around and bum food.  We had nothing better
to do so we headed down to the supermarket to loiter.  I went strolling down
isle #5 and there they were... MY RUBBER BANDS!  I went over to take some and
stuff them into my jacket, they were so beautiful.  There were all kinds:
blue, green, red, tan and even teal.  They came in all sizes too... big AND
small.  I was happy with what i had until I saw it, a rubber band from a
lobster's claw.  It was then, that exact moment, that I realized that's the
rubber band I'd like to be buried with.

(CHORUS)

Rubber Band Suicide,
Latex Genocide,
A holocaust of stretchiness,
Blew my head off, what a mess.

A stretchy circle of despair,
I shoot it up in the air,
People running out of breath,
To escape elastic death.

  I named the rubber band "ed" after my penis.  I won't tell you how I named
it now, that's a different story.  Anyway, I kept "Ed" underneath my bed among 
my PlayBoys and other sexual paraphenilia and vowed that when I was ready to
die, "Ed" would be a major part of it.

(CHORUS)

  Around 13 months after that I asked a girl out, but She said:

(GIRL) - "No way you rubber band freak!"

  Well, that hurt, that hurt alot.  So I went home and commenced to cry.

  <SOUND OF BABY'S CRY>

  I then reached under my bed and pulled out "Ed", "Ed" looked larger and much
more powerful than ever before.  I put one end up to my head and pulled back
the other end as far as I could and then released it!

  <WHACK ON DRUM>

  JEEZUZ!  That hurt.  It didn't kill me so much as just bruise me. So I
repeatedly whacked myself with "Ed".

  <REPEATED SPACED OUT WHACKS ON DRUM, INSERT "OW"S WHERE EVER>

  Eventually I lost coheseiveness, fell asleep and never woke up.  My Mother
found my body crumpled & bruised upon the floor and she said:

(MOM) - "Gosh, that must've taken a while."

  ... and left the room.  Well, that's it, that's my story.  I hope you can
learn from it.

  (CHORUS)
 

  Call the asylum 9o8�914�9318 h/p/v/a/c