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Lyrics

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
Ealized 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 give
Uck 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 ha
Uy 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 com
On the belt, he poots forth...