You're in for a Good Time: 21 Songs 2009​-​2012

by Steve Fitch

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  • The CD edition has 19 songs, but has interesting package design.

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about

My Music by Me Music no. ME98.

A compilation of 22 songs by Steve Fitch from albums released during the years 2009–2012.

Derived from these albums:

01 “Hecknology”
02 “An Hour off Your Life”
03 “Je veux etre mort”
04 “Shit on My Penis”
05 “Sixty-Nine”
06 “Ministry of Love”
07 “”My Son, the Loser”
09 “An Hour off Your Life”
10 “Coffee for Regret”
11 “Je veux etre mort”
12 “Breakfast of Creepazoids”
13 “The Politics of Experience”
14 “Hecknology”
15 “Existential Bukkake”
16 “Lost in Austin”
17 “Sixty-Nine”
18 “Breakfast of Creepazoids”
19 “A Curse in Reverse”
20 “An Hour off Your Life”
21 “Existential Bukkake”

Those albums and others can be downloaded here:
spaces.trychec.com/9666

Hit me: mymusicbymemusic.com

credits

released September 28, 2012

Music, lyrics & recording © 2009-2012 Steve Fitch;
published by My Music by Me Music (BMI).
This compilaton © 2014 Steve Fitch/My Music by Me Music.

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Steve Fitch

All the recordings here have been produced since 2009. Downloads are via trychec.com links.

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Track Name: The Obvious
THE OBVIOUS

Surely he was there among you,
and you never knew it.
Maybe you could have discovered
him, but you blew it.

It's not enough to behold,
you have to be told.

You can't see the whole story
for the anecdotes;
you ignore the obvious
while you're taking notes.

But of course you had to doubt it -
there's no movie about it.

He was standing right there,
in the square foot before you,
but you looked elsewhere for diversion,
lest reality bore you.

You'd ignore the obvious
if it were biting your ass.

© 2012 Steve Fitch;
published by My Music by Me Music (BMI).
Track Name: To my old young woman (hard-headed version)
TO MY OLD YOUNG WOMAN

We'd go to a restaurant if you'd wanna,
or hang-out in your room and listen to Madonna,
or go out trick-or-treating for sexual favors,
and other age-inappropriate behaviors.

I'd forget that I was dealing with a kid –
you didn't waste my time, I did.

I'd sit there patiently while you'd gossip,
and pretend to ignore things that you'd let slip.
You'd never ask about your present company;
but I feared what you'd tell others about me.

Although I knew everything you'd kept hid –
you didn't waste my time, I did.

Even if though miss you,
I'm glad you're gone for good;
I never want to hear from you again,
but wish that I would.

Your moods would change like morning, noon and night;
I wouldn't respond, and you'd pull stunts in spite.
I'd put up with it, and can't remember how;
someone else has to deal with you now.

My love cost you nothing; you sold yours for the highest bid.
I didn't waste your time, but you did.

(Little Girl – Hot Chick – His Wife – Old Woman . . .)

© 2011 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Je veux être mort 0
JE VEUX ÊTRE MORT

La vie est tres longue et dure
La souffrance, chose la plus sure
L'amour est toujours si triste
Faut que je sois réaliste

Moi, je veux être mort
Moi, je veux être mort
J'ai fait tout ce que j'ai pu
Je ne veux vivre plus

Travailler tant que je crêve
Au revoir, tous me rêves
Chaque jour est si chiant
Je baille tout en criant

Moi, je veux être mort
Moi, je veux être mort
Le monde est en gâchis
Comme la rade que je suis

Moi, je veux être mort
Moi, je veux être mort
J'ai fait tout ce que j'ai pu
Je ne veux vivre plus

Si je pouvais trouver
Une qui m'aimerai
Je saurais plus réagir
Le bien me semble le pire

Moi, je veux être mort
Moi, je veux être mort
Le monde est en gâchis
Comme la rade que je suis

Moi, je veux être mort
Moi, je veux être mort
J'ai fait tout ce que j'ai pu
Je ne veux vivre plus

Au revoir

© 2010 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Mommy
MOMMY

He goes out on the weekend
with a whole paycheck to spend,
looking for a new girlfriend
to be his mommy.

A man can spend a life
and even waste a wife,
lookin' for Mommy.

He goes to a party where there aren't any men;
he's crawling around on the floor, again,
tryin' to get a beautiful lesbian
to be his mommy.

A man may use his cool,
but might just lose his tool,
lookin' for Mommy.

© 2012 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Designated Loser
DESIGNATED LOSER

If you don't like the way you're living
nor the returns your life's been giving,
find a new place, start cleanly over,
making a brave new face for cover.
Someone will be there to remember
all of the roots that you'd dismembered -
a little sacrifice is always nice;
a Designated Loser will suffice.

Your old primary group is breaking-
up in directions each is taking;
everyone's waking-up to find
that he fears that he'll be left-behind.
Everyone's struggling to get there,
but they can't tell if they are yet there.
If you have your doubts that you'll succeed,
a Designated Loser's what you need.

Stuck in the mud with wheels spinning,
you have to seem like you are winning;
no matter how well they esteem you,
there's always someone (who) wants to cream you.
Give it your all - after you take it
from someone who will never make it:
everyone will treat you like you're blessed;
your Designated Loser looks your best.

When you're at your old gang's reunion,
you'll ask whatever happened to one
who never did seem to really fit-
in with all your old social bullshit:
did he ever finally go crazy,
or wasn't he too fcking lazy?
There's one thing that won't occur to you:
your Designated Loser hates you, too.

© 2010 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Shutupand
SHUTUPAND

When I come home from school every day,
I know what will be comin' my way:
you scream at me 'bout this or that,
as though you're picking a marital spat
that you'd have with Dad,
if he were around anymore.
You scare him away,
so this is what I am for.

(chorus)
Shut up and fuck me, Mom,
Take me back in where I came from.
I don't wanna be your husband without benefits.
Remember when I used to suck on your tits?
Shut up and love me, Mom –
just let me make you come –
but don't tell Dad
that I'm the best that you've had.

And it's bothering you how I'm growing:
the bulge in my pants that is showing.
Each ejaculate stain
is causing you pain.
You give me no peace;
you need some release.

Sometimes I wonder how long it's been
since Dad even tried to get in.
Now you're going insane and making me pay,
but I need love in a motherly way –
however you want it,
whatever it takes –
I just need to feel
like a wanted mistake.

Getting you on your back will get you off mine;
after we've done it, everything will be fine.

© 2011 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: The Genericans
THE GENERICANS

We aren’t really from here,
we just had to come here,
so we had to lose our language
and forget our heritage,
to assimilate
into this state –
a melting pot
that’s boiling-hot
with competitive equality,
the price we pay to think we’re free.

Some retain the ways
of the old countries, olden days,
of fatherland and mother tongue,
but that's all lost upon the young:
another gizmo on the market –
another car, but where to park it? –
the music and the movies
that we export to people
in our former countries;

that make them want to come here,
but if they want to be from here,
let them lose their language
and forget their heritage –
why should they
be allowed to stay
who they’d been, where
we can’t get back in, there?

© 2011 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: I Want to Be Dead
I WANT TO BE DEAD

In the musty air of the sepulchre
The whispered voices from the shadows
Beckon my return to my rightful home
Beneath the cool soil of this lonely planet

I want to be dead
I want to be dead
Love is always do sad
Death does not seem so bad

My living goddess of this earthly plane
Come unto me at the stroke of midnight
Unveil your pallid marble beauty to me
I'll make love to you - over your dead body

I want to be dead
I want to be dead
I've done all I can do
Now I want to do you

I want to be dead
I want to be dead
Love is always do sad
Death does not seem so bad

Join me now in the bliss of eternal repose
Far beyond the cruelty and madness of life
In the Fields of Elysium we shall experience the ecstasy
Which only corpses can know

I want to be dead
I want to be dead
Love is always do sad
Death does not seem so bad

I want to be dead
I want to be dead
I've done all I can do
Now I want to do you

© 2010 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI).
Track Name: You're in for a Good Time
If you don't catch the joke by listening to the song, why should I bother publishing the lyrics?
Track Name: Her Vagina
HER VAGINA

all the boys
and all the toys
and all the noise that's made
for her vagina

who will get
and whom she'd let
and whom she hasn't yet
in her vagina

all the muss
and the fuss
and the monkeys made of us
for her vagina

what she sought
what she bought
and everything one ought
with her vagina

all the tricks
and politics
and whatever-if-it-sticks
for her vagina

not to mention
all the tension
among friends in contention
for her vagina

she settles-down
with some dumb clown
who works himself into the ground
for her vagina

she was too hot
and still a lot
but nothing were it not
for her vagina

© 2010 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Sleeping Bum
SLEEPING BUM

He was the one
quick with a pun
and jokes you stole for your "lines."
Words in your way,
he knew what to say,
his wit sketches for your designs,
but when you learned of his
diminished condition,
you said that he'd put himself
in that position.
That's no way to treat someone
you admire –
that's like setting a sleeping bum
on fire.

He's someone you knew
would accept you
for what you let nobody know,
when you'd need a dose
of feeling so close
you felt naked not making a show,
but when your looks ceased
to give you protection,
you spewed self-loathing
in his direction.
That's no way to treat someone
you desire –
you're just setting a sleeping bum
on fire.

Someday, your career
will just disappear;
forsaken, your life will look grim.
Down your luck,
boy, will it suck
to find yourself looking like him.
Compared to you, now,
he looks like a winner –
get drunk and ruin his
happy birthday dinner.
That's no way to act when
conditions are dire –
you could be the
sleeping bum on fire.

That's no way to treat someone you admire –
that's like setting a sleeping bum on fire.

© 2012 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: My Dreams
MY DREAMS

I had a life, but I left it behind me
as I made a 180 so that it wouldn’t find me,
and I buried everything that could still remind me
of what I’d used to be,
and which some still think is me.

I bought a new car and new closet of clothes
that look how I’m supposed in the new life I chose,
and I’ll have some of this; I’ll take some of those.
Maybe I’ll pass some to you –
it’s polite not to take more than two.

I live in that house that you see on that hill;
when I can, I’ll move up to a higher one still,
even so, I can’t sleep, ’cause I’m paying a bill
that never redeems
that I never remember my dreams.


© 2011 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: SoCo-Loco
SOCO-LOCO

They stand so patiently in line in front of Jo's
because it gives them ample opportunity to pose,
as though someone should recognize 'em from a magazine:
homo-het'ro-lesbo-metro- every other sexo in-between.

I'm goin' SoCo-loco
from all the firm and cocoa
boobs and butts –
I'm goin' nuts.

They sit and sip their double low-fat lattes so serenely
as though they know that someone's ogling them keenly,
licking lips to catch the foam suggests a sexy taste;
their cleavage is low, lest their implants go to waste.

I'm goin' SoCo-loco
from all the firm and cocoa
boobs and butts –
I'm goin' nuts.

So close yet so far out, struttin' up that hill
from Wet Salon to Guero's, noon to midnight, as they will;
Sunday afternoon, they give the impression that they
had sex all night at Hotel San Jose.

I'm goin' SoCo-loco
because of all cocoa
boobs and butts –
I'm goin' nuts.

© 2012 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Assucker
ASSUCKER

Like a charming European air-kiss,
respecting the flesh that it manages to miss,
your mouth is in a permanent pucker,
because, deep-down, you're just an ass-sucker.

How you get away with it –
working your mouth 'til you finally hit.
You're a child of a privileged class,
and highly refined at sucking that ass.

Someday I might own the hole
at which you kneel at expense of your soul,
but while you claim admiration and awe,
politely suck my shit through a straw.

Assucker – bourgeois assucker ...

© 2012 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: Designated Fcker
DESIGNATED FCKER

I know you know I
want you but you
never seem to
be really with me

Even when we're
out together
then you get a call from
someone to pick you up

I ain't no sucker
He's your designated fcker

How many of them
have you gone through?
you forget them
I still know you

Every weekend
You want to go
out with me and
go home with another

With a little luck
I'll be your designated fcker

© 2010 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: En train de
EN TRAIN DE

Depuis longtemps, malheureusement
je n'ai fait rien du tout
Enfermé chez moi, toute seul
je n'en pouvais plus

Chansonnier en hiver
aux fonds du désespoir
Puis j'ai torché ce truc-çi
et regagné mon pouvoir

Je suis en train de
Je suis en train de
Je suis en train de
faire une chanson

Me dites que ce n'est pas grand-chose
Me dites que c'est mignon
Me dites que ce n'est rien de nouveau
Mais c'est ma nouvelle chanson

Je sais qu'elle est répétitive
Je sais qu'elle dure trop longue
Je sais qu'elle vous donne ennui
Mais enfin j'ai fait un song

Je suis en train de
Je suis en train de
Je suis en train de
faire une chanson

© 2012 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)
Track Name: To my old young woman (soft-hearted version)
(See track #2)
Track Name: Sweet Little Selfshooter
SWEET LITTLE SELFSHOOTER

You got a camera for Christmas
and a new pair of tits
and a Barbie brazilian
that shows all your bits.
You’re lookin’ good now –
don’t you know it –
there’s a wide world of creeps
to whom you can show it.

Sweet little selfshooter,
right here on my computer,
with no hair on your cooter,
you couldn’t look any cuter.
Suburban cutie,
it’s your duty
to show me your booty.

Your messy attic bedroom
is a chamber of joys,
posing with your stuffed animals
and your vibrating toys.
Now you’re in the bathroom,
so don’t be long –
pose on the toilet
and pull down your thong.

Sweet little selfshooter,
right here on my computer,
with no hair on your cooter,
you couldn’t look any cuter.
Suburban cutie,
it’s your duty
to show me your booty.

Send the pics to your boyfriend
’cause you wanna hump him,
but he’s gonna upload them
the moment after you dump him.
They’ll all be on a website
where they can be seen
by creepy old losers
and you’ll stay 17.

Sweet little selfshooter,
right here on my computer,
with no hair on your cooter,
you couldn’t look any cuter.
Suburban cutie,
it’s my duty
to look at your booty.

© 2011 Steve Fitch
Published by My Music by Me Music (BMI)