Monster Songtext
von Dave Malloy

There, under the bridge
There′s a monster
Lurking on the surface of your mind
All the time

It's a new kind of monster
It sputters, sighs and cries
Raving in garbage, tongues and grunts
Proclamations, provocations
Fabrications, defamations
Exclamations, indignation
And poor punctuation

And it′s the words alone
Never sticks nor stones
That get you
That get you

And it's disgusting
Putrid and diseased
Dripping fat and sick
Bulging ass cheek thick


And you never know for sure
Oh, how it teases its allure
Will the monster finally charge and gouge and gorge?
Will the monster finally go too far?

Better check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check
Check, check, check, check, check, check, check, check

Like a litter-covered trail in the forest
Chip bags and beer cans
Condoms, cigarettes
Every time you check
That's what happens to your mind
Yeah, that′s what happens to your mind
As you watch the monster, it digs deeper in your brain
Transforming neural pathways with its toxic refrain

The path gets bigger
The path becomes a street
The street becomes a super-wide super-dumb superhighway
The forest logs filled with chainsaws and smog


Now your mind is stuck in pounding traffic
Migraine sunlight suffocates you
Mufflers and horns
And stupid bad generic pop
Spitting out your shitty speakers
No bass
Just the din of tinny treble

Biting your teeth on the tinfoil metal
And sticky gunked-up Big Gulp cups
Strewed on the shotgun floor
Yeah, just a big old pile of Big Gulp cups
Strewed all about the inside of your mind
All the time

For years you study the monster
Practicing your irony and outrage on a scraping violin
Ten thousand hours of shrieking malnutrition
Your practice makes you master of the monster

Your brain is chemically changed
Your mind goes dark and strange
And you fall apart
Like a naked mannequin
Clattering to the floor

I am not a fucking Luddite
Or a cracked Illuminati
Or a stubborn crazy codger
I am sane

And I′m telling you the monster is real

And we are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble
We are in trouble