Aliens Ate My Buick Lyrics

The Key To Her Ferrari
There was one room in her house that was always kept locked...
It was the garage!

I don't want your love
I don't want your money
I just want the key to your Ferrari
Don't want your bed
I don't want your body
I want the key to your Ferrari
I'm gonna rip it - shine it - rev it - scoot it - skid it -
jam it - rev it - skip it - gun it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari

And then I saw her... she was a bright red '64 GTO with fins and
gills like some giant piranha fish, some obscene phallic symbol on
wheels... little rivers of anticipation ran down my inseam as I
kicked those five hundred italian horses into life and left
reality behind me: fifty, sixty, seventy miles an hour... my hand
slipped inside the belt of my trousers as we passed eighty, ninety
miles an hour... my hand slipped inside the belt of my trousers and
as we hit the magic 100 my love exploded all over her bright pink
leather interior... and at that moment, I thought of my mother...

Don't need no drugs
Don't need no liquor
All I want is the key to your Ferrari
You ruby lips - pa!
Your perfect figure - ecch!
I just want the key to your Ferrari
I'm gonna rev it - jam it - scram it - rip it - tear it - bare it -
ram it - repair it - scoot it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari
He's gonna rev it - scoot it - skid it - rev it - skip it - gun it -
brake it - zoom it - vacuum it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari
I just want the key to your Ferrari
(cause aliens ate my buick...)

Airhead
I buy her all the right clothes and pretty jewels to wear
My friends say she's a dumb blonde but they don't know she dyes her hair
She thinks the fighting in Central America's easily solved
But what to wear to Bel Air premieres is a problem she could never resolve

She's an AIRHEAD.
Stungun and mace, Kharmann Ghia plates say "Lost in Space"
She's an AIRHEAD.
Thousands in trust, cusp aquarius - get serious.
She's an AIRHEAD.
Tinted contacts don't change the fact that black is black.
She's an AIRHEAD.
And while I'm impressed with the length of those legs,
she's not an intellectual giant...

She'd like to model, or maybe act, or start a magazine
Before she signs any big contracts, she better learn to read
But in her dreams she's the queen of the fashion regime

You ask me do I love you, does the Pope live in the woods? Quod
Erat Demonstrandum, baby. ("Ooh, you speak french!!")

She's an AIRHEAD.
Stungun and mace, Kharmann Ghia plates say "Lost in Space"
She's an AIRHEAD.
Thousands in trust, cusp aquarius - get serious.
She's an AIRHEAD.
Tinted contacts don't change the fact that black is black.
She's an AIRHEAD.
And while I'm impressed with the size of that chest,
she's not an intellectual giant...

Sweet and low and oh-so, little Ms. Dora Jarre
Safe sex and fishnets and could you walk me to my car - pa!
She's losing faith in a world that is out of control
So she's gonna nix politics, she's taking up volleyball
Volleyball!! Why?

Cause she's an AIRHEAD.
Stungun and mace, Kharmann Ghia plates say "Lost in Space"
She's an AIRHEAD.
Thousands in trust, cusp aquarius - get serious.
She's an AIRHEAD.
and now the time's come for the end of my song
don't get me wrong

If she's an airhead, it has to be said
It was men made her that way
It was us made her that way
It was us made her that way!

Oh airhead.

Hot Sauce
They call her
She's hot and spicy
But twice as nicey
Although she burn me up

They call her
She's hotter than pepper
I would have kept her
Although she burn me up

What if fire didn't burn?
How would the lesson get learned?
You sit there like a dope until you choke on all the smoke
(smoke gets in your eyes)
Cover me in your sauce baby
Bury me in all that sauce
Smother me in your hot sauce woman
Til smoke come from your thighs

They call her
She's hot and spicy
But twice as nicey
Although she burn me up

They call her
She's hotter than pepper
I would have kept her
Although she burn me up

The brother in the codpiece
I seen him on the TV
I think he likes his ladies
All sweet and sugary
I'm partial to a pudding
But that's for second course
The main meal and the hors d'oeuvres
Must be smothered in hot sauce.

They call her
She's hot and spicy
But twice as nicey
Although she burn me up

They call her
She's hotter than pepper
I would have kept her
Although she burn me up - oh!

What if steam didn't scold?
When would the story be told?
She sat and smoked a fag
While I was gagging on the shag
(shag gets in your eyes) - yes!

Lemme get lost in your sauce baby
Cover me in your sauce
Lemme get lost in your hot sauce woman

There was a fire truck attending
The smoke pouring from her nose
Her state of mind depending
On which way the wind blowed
Chili and tobasco
Dripping on my shirt
I couldn't breathe - I couldn't see
I had to call a smog alert.

Pulp Culture
I drove all over Hollywood looking at the stars
First I ate my Milky Way and then I ate my Mars
But sucking on a Galaxy I noticed something pretty bizarre
There's not a lot of people there, just an awful lot of cars.

Stale pulp culture take it away
New pulp culture serve to redefine it
Old pulp culture day upon day
Young pulp culture help to undermine it
Sham pulp culture buried in time
True pulp culture there to be plundered
Same pulp culture year upon year
Hey! pulp culture live to be a hundred...

Shake off that thing now you gotten used to it
And here is one you won't wanna parlay
In a small round cruel scum brown brat shack dumb world
Another dozen unchained!

Stale pulp culture take it away
New pulp culture serve to redefine it
Old pulp culture day upon day
Young pulp culture help to undermine it
Sham pulp culture buried in time
True pulp culture there to be plundered
Same pulp culture year upon year
Hey! pulp culture live to be a hundred...

If a child ever rose on the wings of a dove
Or the claws of a vulture
Then a man ain't a man when he don't understand
Oh yeah yeah yeah yeah
Pulp culture
Pulp culture
Pulp culture
Pulp culture

Do you really love me girl?
I think I know but I wanna be sure
You tell it to me all night long
Still I wanna hear it some more
You tell me in the bathroom babe
And you tell me back out in the hall
You tell me on the kitchen table
And up against the wall, what it is.
So check beneath your fingernails
In between your toes
Right between your earlobes darling
That's where culture grows.
It's breeding in your short and curlies, ready to expand