from The Sidehackers
Music: The Brains
Transcribed by Lisa Jenkins
[On the satellite: Crow is on guitar, Servo has drums]
JOEL: [carries in Ultimate blue screen] All right, well. We've
got a really neat treat for you guys. We worked on some
heavy charts about sidehackin'. Cambot, I want
you to run that race footage in there? On the, uh,
Chromokey. Okay, you guys--vamp.
JOEL: Yeah, I'm trapped up in outer space. Sometimes my life
feels like a big pile of nothin'. So what? Word. I live with it.
Dig it. But anyway, we [sic] and my bloods would like to
wail out a song about our friends, the sidehackers. Goes like
TOM: 1, 2. 1, 2, 3, 4.
JOEL: Sidehackin' is the thing to do
When it doesn't hurt to have a low IQ.
Take a life you like and a little love.
The big band prize is twenty-five bucks.
Sidehackin'll quench your danger thirst
The stupid ones always seem to come in first, yeah.
Sidehackin' is one big bash;
The favorite sport of cheap white trash.
When you're on your sidehack, make sure you don't slip;
You'll end up with five metal pins in your hip.
Lean way back 'til you scrape your butt;
Make it look like a quarter-pound of ground chuck, yeah.
Oh, sidehack it, Crow!
TOM: Whoo! Oh, go, Crow!
JOEL: It's a sport that attracts a lot of racing
A lot of people get hurt 'cause there are no rules.
All you need is a toxic landfill,
A cycle and a sidecar and an urge to kill.
Better get with the sport 'cause it won't last long;
The founders of this sport are laid at Forest Lawn.
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