Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
Dead Kennedys
The song tells of the night before the Dead Kennedys played at “The Long Goodbye,” a punk club in portland, where Jello Biafra gets water sprayed on him by a bunch of jocks. Jello throws a rock at their car, causing the jocks to chase Jello to a phone booth and attempt to beat him.
[Intro: Singing]
...chemical warfare, chemical warfare
Chemical warfare, warfare, warfare!
[Spoken]
Ray's guitar broke
No, we won't play "Rawhide"
Won't play anything
We'll play the theme from
The Dinah Shore Show
Who wants to be Dinah Shore?
Whose alter ego is Dinah Shore?
Oh, his fists didn't go up so quickly this time
Yawn... yawn... yawn
Put them headphones on
It's bebop time
I want to tell you a story
About the last time I was in Portland
The night before we played at the Long Goodbye
I was walking on the street about 10:30 at night
A lot of people go to bed around here at 10:30 at night
And, well, I was walking along when suddenly
These jocks in this bright blue pickup drove up
It had KC lights, tractor tires, everything but the CB
It was a life-size Hot Wheels car
For some dumb rich kid, right
Well, they drove up to me and they yelled
What dumb rich kids usually yell: "Hey, faggot!"
And showered me with water
"All right!"
So, I stood there thinking
"What a bunch of fuckheads," and picked up a rock
Now, I waited, walked down about a block
To where the Kentucky Fried Chicken is
On Burnside
And sure enough they drove around again
They said, "Hey, faggot
Where's the nearest McDonald's?"
I said, "I don't know," and they squirted me again
So, I threw the rock and put a nice-sized dent
In their giant Hot Wheels car
They screeched to a halt
In the parking lot of some department store
Whose name I don't remember
It's up the street from Fred Meyer
And they got out their clubs and they ran after me
Yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you goddamn faggot
We're gonna kill you, you motherfucker"
So, I got in a phone booth
By the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside
Held my legs straight out like this
So they couldn't open the door to the phone booth
So, they began charging the phone booth
Beating on it with their clubs, yelling
"We're gonna kill you, you motherfucker!
We're gonna kill you, you goddamn faggot!"
I just looked at them
So, there was a crowd gathering by this time
And these kids were standing nearby and they said
"Oh, look at him, he's insane"
I thought, "Aha, here's my way out!"
I yelled at them, "Take me to a mental hospital right away
I wanna be, be put away
Please put me away, c'mon
Call the cops and put me away
Please put me away now"
They said, "All right, faggot
We're calling the police"
So, they called the police
The cop comes out and I go
"Ah, my savior, I'm away from these jocks"
He opens up the door, "Get outta there, you"
Throws me up against the car, frisks me
Shoves me in the back
Then he goes over to the jocks
"Now, what happened here?
It looks like we're going have to take him to jail
But we got to have the full story first"
So, the jocks, who had an ace in the hole
Ace in the hole
(Take down on the bass
A little bit down on the bass, yeah)
Ace in the hole, and they go
"Well, God damn it, the motherfucker
Put a dent in my truck, a $5000 truck, right
So, I got my club, I went out and I wanted to kill him!
I want to kill him! Let me kill him, God damn it!
Let me kill him!"
So, the cop made them go home
And he drove me home
And he confiscated their club
And my rock as further evidence
And I thought, "So, this is Oregon, huh?
Tolerant Oregon?"
Ray, are you done with your guitar yet?
He isn't done yet
So, what else do you want to hear?
I'm out of stories
That's a true story, too
Just ask Bruce Loose
Night of the Living Rednecks was written by Klaus Flouride & Jello Biafra.