The Studded Cinctures were a band from gloomy Ann Harbor, Michigan and they wrote just for you, these irrelevant tunes and with each heart-wrenching, fictitious wail You'd swear they sang your life in veracious details The tears trickle down your face Your skinny arms begin to flail
You can catch them any day of the week At the legion hall down the street in your unromantic town They're guaranteed to bring you down And as the clumsy singer takes the stage He whips the mic in an ardent way And now the girls begin to blush Never had they've been so terribly touched By such an illiterate bum
Oh won't you say what you mean Give us a moment of offering Perhaps a pinch of your views We love the second-rating, the repetition And the metaphors stripped of all gail
With a handful of pomade in hair He shoots a pitifully pouty stare At the nurtured audience And this is easing his conscience Hustling and taking knee with brow in hand He shrieks the works of another man A standing ovation Vulnerable child, you've been taken advantage of by such a carnivorous bum