Central Scrutinizer:
This is the CENTRAL
SCRUTINIZER...Joe
has just worked himself
into an imaginary
frenzy during the fade-
out of his imaginary
song...He begins to
feel depressed now. He
knows the end is near.
He has realized at last
that imaginary guitar
notes and imaginary
vocals exist only in the
imagination of
The Imaginer...and...
ultimately, who gives a
fuck anyway...So...So...
Excuse me...So...Who
gives a fuck anyway?
So he goes back to his
ugly little room and
quietly dreams his last
imaginary guitar solo...
(after the song ends)
This is the CENTRAL
SCRUTINIZER...As
you can see, MUSIC
can get you pretty
fucked up...Take a
tip from Joe, do like
he did, hock your
imaginary guitar and
get a good job...Joe
did, and he's a happy
guy now, on the day
shift at the Utility
Muffin Research
Kitchen, arrogantly
twisting the sterile
canvas snoot of a
fully-charged icing
anointment utensil.
And every time a nice
little muffin comes by
on the belt, he poots
forth...
And if this doesn't convince you that MUSIC causes BIG TROUBLE...then maybe I should turn off my plastic megaphone and sing the last song on the album in my regular voice...