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Uncircumcised Men in the Service of Satan

by Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire

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1.
We use a ruler to get a straight pentagram A jigger of goat’s blood, we measure by the dram Straight up in a chalice What do you think of this phallus? Yes we have satin robes with matching underwear Autographed pictures of Linda Blair, We love Cher! She rocked Caesar’s Palace What do you think of this phallus? When we are chanting it sounds a lot like Pig Latin We’re careful with our meds, a Zoloft and a statin Friday, a Cialis What do you think of this phallus? Amazing what can be done with a pitchfork tine Skewer some mutton kebabs, even uncork wine It’s sharp, don’t be callous What do you think of this phallus? Anton, our accountant, made one simple decree Now we’re just another church 501(c) 3 With a hint of malice Sullahp siht fo kniht uoy od tahw? Mmmm Uncircumcised men In the service of Satan In the service of Satan WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS PHALLUS?
2.
When I get back I will send you a text to let you know I made it home alright I hope those vibrations wake you up How else can I infiltrate your dreams? Those formless things, those shapeless things with their tales of possibility You sorry thing, you mislead thing There are rules of probability I can't slow, won't show My ego is over the limit Can't go, no show My ego is over the limit When I get up I will send you a text So you know I'm having eggs for breakfast I hope those vibrations get you up How else can I dominate your thoughts? Those foggy things, those unkempt things With their tales of possibility You sorry thing, you mislead thing There are rules of probability I can't slow, won't show My ego is over the limit Can't go, no show My ego is over the limit
3.
4.
And what I bury is not your concern My relics weigh only me down What’s to exhume, what’s to learn That I am scum of some renown? What you’re looking for is some clear pattern A map to trace a smile to scowl Keep on digging you’ll find that urn With just a spade and trowel Pour me another drink, You good for nothing Pour me another rye whiskey, rocks Only fools embrace the thing That pushes and shoves and changes the locks There’s truth in fiction, but can you discern I was honest until I lied Some parts will make your stomach churn Now I say that with some pride Brimstone from a whisky sticky lectern Tales unearthed from a shallow grave Soon I’ll be gone, I won’t return Be well, be good and behave Is there a group for men and sons they spurn? Though I would surely not attend The damaged speak and then it’s your turn Some mend, but most pretend.
5.
I remember the time when I said, "Hey, that's unfair" Come September and I'm on my way back to school I hope you enjoyed the protests and the rest of the unrest of the summer I hope you enjoyed the protests and the rest of the unrest of the rest of the year I really care about your problems I really care about your problems Burning ember and lime, outdoor grill, "Hey, make mine rare" This December I climb Everest, paid for by dear old dad I hope you enjoyed the protest and the rest of the unrest of the rest of the year I really care about your problems I really care about your problems

about

Uncircumcised Men in the Service of Satan is a near-perfect alliterative phrase. It is stupidly fun to say aloud. Try it. I don't remember how it came to me; but once it did, I had a lot of fun creating the hobbies and interests for these men. Of course, the word phallus was going to be rhymed. I started to love these guys and their goofy club. They helped to remind me about the often imperceptible connections that we have that are seldom recognized. Cut, uncut, who knows? Being uncircumcised is to not be a member of certain clubs, so why not use that exclusionary status as a basis for your very own society?

Inspired by the group-think of my protagonists, I made a concerted effort to be less one-man-band on this album. There are guest musicians on every track. You'll hear clarinet, saxophone, jazz guitar and dilruba solos; a dynamic bass guitarist, and vocal contributions from Chelsea Green and Dyingseed. Moreover, I explored new styles of music; there is Klezmer, straight ahead jazz, moments of Indian raga and electro-funk. As usual I wrote draft after draft for each of the lyrics; working hard to avoid cliches and to find the best, truest rhymes.

None of these songs came easily. Each was a struggle - an added skirmish in a year fraught with myriad personal battles. In the end though, and possibly due to all of the extra effort or perhaps my heightened emotional vulnerability, this is my richest collection.

These songs are very different from one another and different than anything I have previously put forth. I am proud of this collection and hope that it entertains you as much as it vexed me.

Slip on your red satin underwear; grab your plastic, Party City trident and become, no matter your gender or religion, an uncircumcised man in the service of Satan.

credits

released April 15, 2016

All music, lyrics and production: Elliott Marx

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Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire Los Angeles, California

Counterpoint by avocation.

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