I am a Loser Baby

When I first heard "Loser" on Mtv, I fell in love. That song appealed to me more than any other song I'd ever heard. For I, like the song states, am a loser. I really don't take being known as a loser as a derogatory connotation... There are many things that I can describe to you that would make you believe that I am a loser. Here are a few:
1. I drive around alone on Friday and Saturday nights for no reason.(cruising)
2. I don't care what other people think about me.
3. I don't drink, smoke, or do drugs, or party with the cool people.
4. I can quote every line to every Monty Python movie and sketch and I can hold entire conversations using only Simpsons quotes.
5. Look at the size of this web page. That ought to tell you something!
I am an individual and therefore qualify as a loser. Beck taught me that it's okay to be a loser and to celebrate my loserness, I made this trubute to him. I love all of his music and I have all of his albums, even Stereopathetic Soulmanure... Which may also make me a loser. I have fun though...


In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey. Butane in my veins, I'm out to cut the junky with the plastic eye-balls, spraypaint the vegetables, dog food skulls with the beef-cake pantyhose. Kill the headlights and put it neutral, stock car flaming with a loser in the cruise control. Baby's in Reno with the vitamin D, got a couple of couches, sleep on the love-seat. Someone came sayin' I'm insane to complain about a shotgun wedding and a stain on my shirt. Don't believe everything that you breathe, you get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleve, so shave your face with some mace in the dark. Savin' all your foodstamps and burnin' down the trailer-park. 'n' yo cut it. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Double-barrel buckshot. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Forces of evil in a Bozo nightmare. Bent all the music with the phoney gas chamber. 'cause one's got a weasle, the other's got a flag. One's on the pole, shove the other in a bag, With the rerun shows and the cocaine nose-job. The daytime crap of the folk singin' squad. He hung himself with a guitar sting. Slap a turkey neck and it's hangin' fron a pigeon wing. I can't write if you can't relate, trade the cash for the beat for the body for the hate. And my time is peice of wax falling on a termite, that's choking on the splinters. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Get crazy with the Cheez-Wiz. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Drive-by body pierce. Y'all bring it on down. Soy. I'm a driver, I'm a winner, things are gonna change, I can feel it. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? I can't believe you. Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? Sprechen sie Deutches, ya baby? Soy un perditor, I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? You know what I'm sayin'?


More of my Music Links


U2

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New Radicals

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