| It takes a backwash man to sing a backwash soul |
| Like a fryin' pan when the fire’s gone |
| Drivin' my pig while the bands takin' pictures in the grass |
| And my radio’s smashed |
| And I like pianos in the evenin' sun |
| Draggin' my heals 'til my day is done |
| Saturday night in the captain’s clothes |
| Tender horns blowin' when my jewelry froze |
| Yo soy un disco quebrado |
| Yo tengo chicle en mi cerebro |
| I can’t believe my way back when |
| My Cadillac pants goin' much to fast |
| Karaoke weekend at the suicide shack |
| Community service and I’m still the mack |
| Shocked my finger, spicin' my hand |
| I’ve been spreadin' disease all across the land |
| Beautiful air conditioned, sittin' in the kitchen |
| Wishin' I was livin' like a hit man |
| Face down in the guarantees |
| Jaundiced honchos gettin' busy with ease |
| Because I get down, I get down |
| I get down all the way |
| Yo soy un disco quebrado |
| Yo tengo chicle en mi cerebro |
| I’m a ass, ass, ass |
| I’m, I’m, I’m, I’m a ass, ass, ass |
| Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders |
| Western Unions of the country westerns |
| Silver foxes looking for romance |
| In the chain smoke Kansas flash dance ass pants |
| And you got the hotwax residues |
| You never lose in your razor blade shoes |
| Stealin' pesos out of my brain |
| Hazard signs down the Alamo lanes |
| Radar systems piercin' the souls |
| You never get caught with the wax so rotten |
| All my days I got the grizzly words |
| Hijacked flavors that I’m flippin' like birds |
| Yo soy un disco quebrado |
| Yo tengo chicle en mi cerebro |
| 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 |