It takes a backwash man to sing a backwashed song

Like a frying pan when the fire's gone

Driving my pig while the bear's taking pictures

in the grass And my radio's smashed

And I like pianos in the evening sun

Dragging my heals 'til my day is done

Saturday night in the Captain's clothes

Tin horns blowing with my jewelry fros

Yo soy un disco cabrado*

Yo tengo chicle en cerabo

I can't believe my way back when

My Cadillac pants going much to fast

Karaoke weekend at the suicide shack

Community service and I'm still the mack

Shocked my finger spicing my hand

I been spreading disease all across the land

Beautiful air-conditioned sitting in the kitchen

Wishing I was living like a hit man

Face down in the guarantees

Jaundiced marshalls getting busy with ease

Because I get down I get down I get down all the way

Yo soy un disco cabrado*

Yo tengo chicle en cerabo

Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders

Western Unions of the country westerns

Silver foxes looking for romance

In the chain smoke Kansas flashdance ass pants

And you got the hotwax residues

You never lose in your razor blade shoes

Stealing pesos out of my brain

Hazard signs down the Alamo lanes

Radar systems using the souls

You never get caught with the wax so rotten

All my days I got the grizzly words

Hijacked flavors that I'm flipping like birds

Yo soy un disco cabrado*

Yo tengo chicle en cerabo

who are you?

I'm the enchanting wizard of rhythm

why did you come here?

I came here to tell you about the rhythms of the universe



*chorus translation: "I'm a broken record I have bubblegum in my brain"