He Used To Cut The Grass

[Lyric Note 1]

JOE thinks to himself as he walks out of prison

[Verse: Joe]

I'm out at last

Boy, the world sure looks different

Wow, there's hardly anything fun to do

Since they made music illegal

But I'm hooked

I got the habit

I've got to have it

I need to play

But there's no musicians anymore

They're all gone

Wait! I've got it!

I'll be sullen and withdrawn

I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm

Of my own secret thoughts

I'll walk through the parking lot

In a semi-catatonic state

And dream of guitar notes

To go with the loading zone announcements

[Lyric Note 2]

JOE wanders through the world, which by then has been totally epoxied over, carefully organized, with everyone reporting daily to his or her appointed place in a line somewhere in front of a window somewhere in a building somewhere in order to collect his or her welfare check, which, when cashed, made it possible for the young ones to continue the payments for the obsolete and irreparable appliances their parents had purchased on the instalment plan years ago, providing as security the future incomes of their children. The rest of these checks were used by the young recipients to buy fun things of their own on credit, most of which broke down or failed within moments of purchase and seemed to be stacking up everywhere

[Bridge: Central Scrutinizer]

This is the Central Scrutinizer

The White Zone is for loading and unloading only

If you have to load or unload, go to the White Zone

You'll love it

It's a way of life

This is the Central Scrutinizer

The White Zone is for loading and unloading only

If you have to load or unload, go to the White Zone

You'll love it

It's a way of life

This is the Central Scrutinizer

The White Zone is for loading and unloading only

[Lyric Note 3]

As JOE stumbles over mounds of dead consumer goods formed into abstract statues dedicated to the Quality of American Craftsmanship, dreaming his stupid little guitar notes, he hears, somewhere in the back of his head, the voice of MRS. BORG, taunting him

[Bridge: Mrs. Borg's Voice]

Turn it down!

Turn it down!

I have children sleeping here!

Don't you boys know any nice songs?

I'm calling the police!

I did it!

They'll be here . . . shortly!

I'm not joking around anymore!

You'll see now!

There they are . . . they're coming!

Just listen to that mess, would you!

Every day this goes on around here!

He used to cut my grass, he was a very nice boy!

He used to cut my grass, he was a very nice boy!

He used to cut my grass, he was a very nice boy!

He used to cut my grass, he was a very nice boy!

[Outro: Central Scrutinizer]

This is the Central Scrutinizer

Yes, he used to be a nice boy, he used to cut the grass

But now his mind is totally destroyed by music

He's so crazy now - he even believes that people are writing

Articles and reviews about his imaginary guitar notes

And so, continuing to dwindle

In the twilight realm of his own secret thoughts

He not only dreams imaginary guitar notes

But, to make matters worse

Dreams imaginary vocal parts

To a song about the imaginary journalistic profession....