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see dee : Spew

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Lyrics

I think I'm gonna spew
What are you gonna do?
Gonna get that goo
On my new shoe
My meal is through

I thought you oughtta know
I've got some chunks to blow
When up I throw
On Cousin Joe
It'll be quite a show

All my intestinal juices
Are coming back out in the air
They don't like how dark
It is down in there
All my esophageal burning
My tummy inferno
Makes me believe that I'll never keep anything down


The stuff that I drank from this mug
I just put back on your rug
I'll give you a sheepish smile,
'Cause I just went projectile
I hope you don't mind looking at my bile

Our honeymoonin' tropical vacation,
Will soon be spoiled by my regurgitation
Watch where you sit
Beware my spit
Cause it's got a bit of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus that week old piece of pizza that I picked up off the floor

Though the fragrance isn't quite as nice as roses,
And the process isn't very democratic
When your body does its business and disposes,
Arguing won't help
Just let it come
But not on the cat. Ick!

What are you gonna think,
But I swear I haven't had a thing to drink
My stomach starts to sink,
And I start to stink
I hope I didn't stain your real expensive mink

(period of nauseous uncertainty, followed by acceptance into Nirvana... )

(not the band; that would sound entirely different)

Notes/Trivia

Words and Music by Tim Y. Jones

Solo by Tim

Two favorite responses to this song:
first, at our CD release party in Provo when my old piano teacher and Sunday School teacher (may she rest in peace) who was so sweet and a wonderful classical musician and was sitting on the front row right in front of me as I sang this and she had the MOST sour look on her face. At the same show, in the same song, a pregnant lady got up not once but TWICE to go vomit in the drinking fountain.

second, when my sister sent me a blazingly angry email that the whole family had the stomach flu and the kids wouldn't stop singing the song which made her have to puke over and over, and during that time her son was at the playground and he vomited ON HIS NEW SHOES.

If I were a psychic, I could make money off of that.

---Tim