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