Scrotie:
“Oh, so we uh gotta sing, hey.”
Red:
“They’re gonna let us sing here, on this one? Right on.”
Scrotie:
“Gotta earn those session dollars”

How many rubs will make a right?
How many tugs will work tonight?
Where were you, while they were
“smoking pole?”
Slowly sliding down the hall
Clicking heels, a bra too small
Falling out, down on Stony Plain Road

Someday you will find her
Wide eyed, getting cab fare
For a ride above a black hole
Escorted cum lattes in the sky

(Recorder part), then Red:
“Well apparently somebody
should have dropped out
in kindergarten to be a rock star”

Not just paying for their school
Kids at home, a sitter rules
Turning tricks
Down on Stony Plain Road
Smoking crack behind the bar
Huddled in a worn down car
Where were they
While John was getting off?
This was no temptation,
A comic release, our
“Escorted cum lattes” (x2)

These rig pigs need to
Get their rocks off,
Go home to their wives.
Their jizz entwined, a piercing kind
Their safe is bolted down to our ceiling
At (the dump known as)
The “Blackspot Café” (Edmonton’s WM for musicians)

Red: “Holy sheepers,
I wish they’d just use AutoTune”

Someday you will find her
Wide eyed, taking cab fares
For a “hotdog down that hallway”*
(* a stolen Seth MacFarlane/Family Guy joke)
Escorted cum lattes in the sky