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Junk Worship

by Jak Locke

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released September 12, 2003

album art by scott fremin



all rights reserved


Jak Locke New Orleans, Louisiana

Jak Locke is a multi-genre songwriter and performer based in and native to New Orleans, LA.

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Track Name: Warsaw Honey (Töten Alles)
Everybody knows where the ladies are at this time of night
They all with me baby. Oh
Just leave me alone
Come on get away from the
Just shut up and shoot everyone
I love my toilet paper
Yeah sexual anarchy
Oh no no no no no no uh huh
Four big red cuts from here to here, I mean clear through the skin, bleeding profusely. That cat's sitting there looking at him like, "just try it again you son of a bitch"
I have no head. I am a reject. I have no head. I look hilarious.
My brain is a broken basket of water.
Kill everything.
Kill everything.
To your weapons, attack, fire, destroy the buildings, kill them all,
everyone, kill them, destroy everything do not leave a single stinking
person, on my mark drop the bombs kill everything
I love you.
Kill everything.
I love you.
Kill everything.
Track Name: Scorched Porch Lights (This'll Do)
My head fell off
The fire engine's screaming all down St. Mary Street
I'm drunk and wasted once again, I got no one to meet
Sidewalk prophecies on the wall
The sun ain't good for nothing with all that smoke in its face
She left her clothes here, she'll be back at my place
Sometime soon, maybe next fall
I broke all the windows (yeah boy) now the wind won't go away (so cold)
Got a Vegas streak in me (yeah boy) but no one left to play (I lit a match)
It's quiet now I can even hear the mold in her closet (girl needs to clean that, it's filthy)
I can drop five figures (yeah boy) in less than a week (uh huh)
I can live it up downtown (watch me livin it up boys) where the floor don't creak (nah, the floor's made of linoleum)
Ain't no money to make no deposit (I don't even know where the bank at son)
Took the bus to your place, hoped to find you here (girl, where you at)
So many problems, not enough beer (it's on fire now)
And I had nothing better to do than stand up right here play guitar and sing to you (but this'll do)
Dirk, hey Dirk, hey Dirk, hey Dirk
Track Name: Throwrug (Throwrug)
Independent aluminum can collection specialist
Trucking down the sidewalk with a broken shopping cart
Defiant faces loving misery in the afternoon mornings
In the faux ghost town where living's a lost art
Suckin down dust and fumes of mass fabricated soma
In the television billboard with legs model citizen parade
Emaciated jawless wolves, self-worth guided by the words on their pants
Hybrid grocery store display of the tie-sporting disposable bolt
Thrift store rejects mashing the mattress and slacking their soul away
Throwback losers chewing the gristle of history for any reason to revolt
Sad sack zoo cage microcosm euphemism
To sell off living to the closest bidder for the sake of existing
Redundant crapped out terrariums of burnt out cast off cronies
Where the autocratic status quo isn't even worth resisting, yeah!
Throwrugs think they got it made
Ruling over kingdoms of shit below them
Never tell them that the pressure that they feel's not from any big decisions
Just from things that pass above them on their way to somewhere better
Come on!
Track Name: Chemical Soul (Stoned)
Leave behind your troubled days and tie your cares behind
Tin can ashtrays on the floor, fifth time hitting rewind
There's a naked man in the corner and a film crew passing by
Emasculating trees and white rocks that you taught to fly
Chest pains, dead brains, lost gains
Half the periodic table running through my veins
Plastic cups tipped over, bad story of the week
Statutory cradle thief, a purple ink leak
Billiard solitaire solo hermit all past his prime
Broken windows in the dorm, ain't no one gonna confess the crime
Chest pains, dead brains, lost gains
Half the periodic table running through my veins
Uh huh
Killin time with a can of gas, a minimalist arsonist
Knives and phony guides to life, a rubber woman's kiss
A cheap façade, a jaw machine, a goddess of the fake
Virtual stupidity, a bone that you can't break
Chest pains, dead brains, lost gains
Half the periodic table running through my veins
Track Name: Rockin Broken Record (My Hero)
Check, check one, check one two
Mic mic check, check one, check one two
Sheddin sweat bullets like a sawed-off gun
Flyin off walls in a room of one
Peeling off plaster from my ceiling fan
With a toothpick wound in the middle of my hand
Limp wet dollar laying down in a glass
With a filter smokin killer jumpin on my ass
Broken record rockin from five to nine
With a burnt-out jimmy workin for the wine
Semaphore junkies waving plastic flags
Wake of confusion in my sleepin bag
Blue dye running down the side of his face
Well I want a whiskey sour with a shot of mace
Corporate disco on the side of the street
Dusty gray bones looking for the meat
Salivate your life on the side of the ditches
While your Frankenstein monster's pickin at his stitches
Fisherman's net caught up in a draft
Suicidal monkey hangin on the raft
Detrimental can in the back of a truck
Where you ask for directions and you're out of luck
Silver tongued artist with the tarnish blues
Road hockey hitcher with nothing to lose
A cremated man in a brown ashtray
You can't hit a note when you try to play
Downin my coffee like there's no tomorrow
Sittin in a joint with the temporary sorrow
Semaphore lover in my distant past
Smokin joes takin blows to my fixated ass
With the hippie lifestyle callin both my names
Chain smokin chasers with no one to blame
Tablecloth's messing with my black ink flow
Like the watery coffee and the ashtray low
I'm givin my lemons to my drummer's girl
Thinkin of my seventeen different worlds
Tall blond waitress with the paycheck blues
Fightin back time on a midnight cruise
Two stoned losers on my friendship list
When you find love they get all pissed
Example of timing evident at the diner
One-time shot on the laid-off headliner
Workin class stiffs two tables away
Livin for the paycheck and never for the day
It's a shame for a person to be so stuck
My future's playin songs in the back of a truck
I'm throwin out numbers of the local bars
Phone book junkies who don't want to be stars
Stars are too common and come out too soon
I make my wishes on a bright blue moon
Track Name: Strange Town (Straight Nowhere)
The starlight tapestry shines like gin on a plaintive and vague recall
Out in a lover's mask and cape nobody can see me at all
The rainfall brought some vacancy to the devil's porch where it strolls
Even the railmen are gone but their graves are black and empty holes
Everything's a worthless sham
Nobody gives a damn
Plastic heads on paper dolls
I can't wait to see them fall
You can feel it in the rust on the cemetery gate
Down in the junkyard you can tell when it's too late
A strange town that I walk now and strangers are all that's left to see
Everything has killed itself and now nothing is left but me
Here today and gone by noon
Sucking on the silver spoon
Verbal masturbation rites
See your name in shattered lights
But even that's a memory as I walk until I'm gone
Tomorrow's just another day to keep dying and dying on
Zero, loser, reject, tool (Dying and dying on)
One more drip inside the pool (Dying and dying on)
Phony prima fucker fare (Dying and dying on)
Not me, I'm going straight nowhere
Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha (Dying)
Ah ha ha ha ha
Track Name: Molotov Cocktail (Junkyard)
Junkies of the nightlife cocaine habit midwife
Cut me with a butterknife it feels so good
Whip me chain me down right just like Friday night
My place in the red light the red light zone
Steamshovel lover massive breakin it down
Maximum intensity since I hit the town
She got the piledriver mojo slammin hard like a truck
Kickin basses in the faces of the ignorant bucks
Fall apart like a house of cards under the mower
Layin on the devils roof now I'm bound to get lower
My crackpipe honey come and blowin my mind
Eatin glass burnin gas now I'll never unwind
Don't call me cuz I'm gone got my leisure suit on
Got a list of girls that I'll be takin home
Ladies scopin my scene in the limousine
Roll the drivers window and go all night long
Drownin in a fountain huffin paint in a can
Got the highway 90 blues like a nail in the hand
I wanna hang from the ceiling with my two arms free
With the garbage on the floor as far as I can see
And yeah I'm down to the rhythm of a trashcan riff
Beer keg juggernaut come give me a lift
Killin all the time makin chemical love
All kinda bad luck from below and above
My sweet seductive mistress I never seen you like this
Let's go down the hall and meet some friends of mine
That's not the direction of my record collection
If you'll be like that I got more just like you
Killer scenes and acid blue roadkill
Psychopath lawn man junkin the pills
Down the socket and into your brain
Lock and load slugs into Abel and Cain
I'm a twist top wino with the drum machine blues
Suckin on the devil getting down to the news
Slide bass guitar power junkyard singer
Bury my body with the telephone ringer
It don't matter if I put my hand on your thigh
Sit up on my lap and tell me what's your name
I am the lovemaster lay you down like plaster
Bang like a disaster in the city street
Come on! Get down! Molotov cocktail this party!
Come on! Get down! Light this sucker up!
Come on! Get down! Molotov cocktail this party!
Come on! Get down! Light this sucker up!
Track Name: Mattress Blues (Lazy October)
The doors are broken and mosquitoes comin in
I'm layin round got the mattress blues again
Cable modem and a broken VCR
Kids are boxing on a rusted out old car
Ain't much to say
Ain't much to do today
Commercial vacuum and a Crown Victoria
Eighty bucks and plastic euphoria
Kickin cans in bags so bored you're keeping score
Takin time like you could come back for some more
Ain't much to say
Ain't much to do today
Stoned and drunk and wired and blowed and wide awake
Tomorrow's one more free donation you can take
Blowin smoke into the rising morning's face
Don't know what's happening but I've already set my pace
Ain't much to say
Ain't much to do today
Ain't much to say
Ain't much to do today
Track Name: Total Waste (Total)
Oh yeah oh yeah
Breakin it down, you went and dropped all your baggage so you come around and blame it on me
You preachin all manner of screamin to the world but it's cacophony
You go do your thing, I'll do mine
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah oh yeah
There ain't truth in your mouth or even in your head
I think I'll leave you far away and go do my own thing instead
You go do your thing I'll do mine
You say I'm lying and that's fine, so forget the rest
Don't matter that I'm tellin the truth
Forget the truth, pick the lies you like the best
I'll go do my thing I'll do fine
You wanna try me?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
There ain't truth in your mouth or even your head
I think I'll leave you far away and do my thing instead
Don't wait til you're bored and you wish you did, oh yeah
You go do your thing, I'll do mine
My thing, I'll do fine
I'll do fine, I'll do fine, I'll do fine, I'll do fine, yeah, yeah, yeah
Come on, come on rock this like a mountain!
That's right
Track Name: I'm Feeling Generic (!)
Idols made of wax, pretentious to the max
Crankshaft people walking down the waves
Immaculate mockeries, plugged-in sonic factories
Archived like there's something worth to save
A carnival of cliques
Who wants to be like yesterday's pick
Waste of space religions rotting in the kitchen
Complacent dirges best in semaphore
A festival of rejects, recycled dope and cold sex
Back to the dry wells to tap some more
A carnival of cliques
An audience of stones and bricks
Amplified distortions, completely lame proportions
You watch them all voraciously depart
You can see it in the sewer, in the piles of manure
Put a nail through crap and call it art
A carnival of cliques
Leave me be I'm feeling generic
Track Name: Wino Suit (Junk It!)
Junk it like a pile of metal
Junk it while the fallout starts to settle
Fire it up like a blunt
Junk that shit and burn the apartment
Junk it! Junk it!
Wax that shit like a piece of fruit
Hit me up while I'm in the mood
Push that car way down the street
Junk that shit like a man in heat
Junk it! Junk it!
Pushing all the right buttons tonight
Junk that shit right outta sight
Junk it Jimmie Walker jaw style
Junk that shit like a WAV file
Junk it!
Break your teeth on a bent up flute
Junk it like a man in a wino suit
Junk it down and don't know why
Junk this shit, let's all get high
Junk it! Junk it! Junk it!
Track Name: The Holy Grail Has A Paycheck In It (Approaching Tide)
Junk Worship will be right back after these messages
Stick me deep with the interest rate I.V.
Tall tales flying on a Wall Street scenery
Fixed fat slob taking treasury tokes
With the corporate additives making him choke
Got a paper box with a hundred rubber checks
With the pole in a hole of degenerate wrecks
Five figure debts from desk learning for days
Learning useless facts about the American way
One more empty, to the breadline he goes
While the bossman's money's going straight up his nose
Application hand cramp futility rights
While the tax man's keeping everyone in his sights
Walking around in the burning cold
Fresh out of grad school and already old
Dancing the sewer with a lice filled comb
In the yellow light district that I call my home
Find your job in a garden of clover
Seven figures on your plastic hangover
Drowning in the liquid of the dollar's weight
In a backwash of the loan percentage interest rates
Seven slots in a roll of twenty-four
Ink on the statement is rotten to the core
Living it up with a gun to your head
With your last sleeping hole in the equity dead
And the trails will choke the names of them who hang their heads in shame
The martyrs with their poison runnin through ya
And we'll be glowing in the sight of your foundations burning bright
With our torches, shouting hallelujah
Track Name: Zero (0)
I sleep on someone else's floor
Hinges all rusted on the two tone door
Paint chips and exposed wiring
Better get used to it, nobody's hiring
Lost track how long it's been since I did the laundry
Lost track how long it's been since I took a shower
Lost track how long it's been since I had something to eat
I know how much I smoke though
Drinkin hard and starin out the window
Nothing better for me to do than to watch the trees grow
I'm stomping up and down the empty halls
Going crosseyed staring at the walls
Lost track how long it's been since I did the laundry
Lost track how long it's been since I took a shower
Lost track how long it's been since I had something to eat
I know how much I smoke though
Well I just might get the urge to clean this place up
Some time maybe tonight or maybe next year
And I just might get the urge to find myself
Something to eat, then again I just might stay right here
Leafblowers and lawnmowers singing tunes to my head
Aluminum gascans, aluminum sheds
Jump out the shower do what you can
Let me be told that I'm all that I am
Lost track how long it's been since I did the laundry
Lost track how long it's been since I took a shower
Lost track how long it's been since I had something to eat
I know how much I smoke though
Lost track how long it's been
Lost track how long it's been
Lost track how long it's been
I know how much I smoke though
Track Name: Suckin Down Dust ()
Suckin down dust
Suckin down dust
I'm a dustmop jockey and that's all I am
I'm a dusted out junkie I don't give a damn
I'm down to the rhythm of a trash can riff
I'm down to the rhythm of a trash can riff
I'm a dustmop jockey and that's all I am
I'm a dustmop jockey I don't give a damn
I'm down to the rhythm of a trash can riff
Down to the rhythm of a trash can riff
Suckin down dust and nothin comin from the dirge machine
Suckin down dust ain't nothin comin from the dirge machine