Family Romance

Hey baby, meet your new in-laws. They're beautiful, with just a few flaws.
Grandma never learned the virtue of silence. Dad's still ravin’ about Shavin’ Ryan’s Privates.
Mom’s still plannin’ to move to cooler climates like Algeria, or to the south of France.
Welcome to my family romance.

Hey baby, meet your new in-laws. This ain’t Kansas, it’s the Land of Oz.
My brother’s always sincere, whether he means it or not.
He’ll do anything, long as he don't get caught.
My uncles tell me they think you're really hot. And you still haven't met my aunts.
Welcome to my family romance.

Hey baby, meet your new in-laws. Shake their hands. Watch out for claws.
I got a brother Ken, wears 3-D glasses and walks into walls.
He dresses like Barbie and stabs his voodoo dolls.
My sister gargles with razor blades and hides bull balls in the pockets of her checkered pants.
Welcome to my family romance.

Instrumental section

I got a cousin, raised by women, he’s still swimmin’ in an alcoholic trance.
Welcome to my family romance!

Copyright 2006 NADJA MUSIC Reinaldo Garcia
August 14, 2000 Monterey, CA

Family Romance

Sheb Wooley’s Flying Purple People Eater (1958) was the first record I ever bought, a “novelty song” that predated The Witch Doctor, The Martian Hop, The Monster Mash, and They’re Coming To Take Me Away, Ha Ha. I loved them all. During this period, WEST SIDE STORY's Officer Krupke, with its prescient therapeutic theories, slithered out from the musical’s score and bit me. Later, I heard Dylan’s overrated Maggie's Farm, and all of these songs armed me for the comic assault on my own nest.

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