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Sixto Rodriguez - A Most Disgusting Song Lyrics

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  • I've played every kind of gig there is to play now
  • I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motorcycle funerals
  • In opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses.
  • Well I found that in all these places that I've played
  • All the people that I've played for are the same people
  • So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song.
  • A most disgusting song.
  • The local diddy bop pimp comes in
  • Acting limp he sits down with a grin
  • Next to a girl that has never been chased
  • The bartender wipes a smile off his face
  • The delegates cross the floor,
  • Curtsy and promenade through the doors,
  • And slowly the evening begins.
  • And there's Jimmy "Bad Luck" Butts
  • Who's just crazy about them East Lafayette weekend sluts
  • Talking is the lawyer in crumpled up shirt
  • And everyone's drinking the detergents
  • That cannot remove their hurts
  • While the Mafia provides your drugs,
  • Your government will provide the shrugs,
  • And your national guard will supply the slugs,
  • So they sit all satisfied.
  • And there's old playboy Ralph
  • Who's always been shorter than himself,
  • And there's a man with his chin in his hand,
  • Who knows more than he'll ever understand.
  • Yeah, every night it's the same old thing
  • Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
  • At the Inn-Between, again.
  • And there's the bearded schoolboy with the wooden eyes
  • Who at every scented skirt whispers up and sighs
  • And there's a teacher that will kiss you in French
  • Who could never give love, could only fearfully clench
  • Yeah, people every night it's the same old thing
  • Getting pacified, ossified, affectionate at Mr. Flood's party, again
  • And there's the militant with his store-bought soul
  • There's someone here who's almost a virgin I've been told
  • And there's Linda glass-made who speaks of the past
  • Who genuflects, salutes, signs the cross and stands at half mast
  • Yeah, They're all here, the Tiny Tims and the Uncle Toms,
  • Redheads, brunettes, brownettes and the dyed haired blondes,
  • Who talk to dogs, chase broads and have hopes of being mobbed,
  • Who mislay their dreams and later claim that they were robbed
  • And every night it's going to be the same old thing
  • Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
  • Lost, even, at Martha's Vineyard, again

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