TRASH JUICE

Key: E
Tempo: ~128 BPM
Feel: Dirty garage rock / blues
Main progression: E – G – A – E

Intro

E G A E
E G A B7

(Spoken)
Don’t touch the bottom of the bag.

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Verse 1

E
Black plastic bag in the summer sun
G
Been sittin’ there since quarter to one
A
Chicken bones, coffee grounds, something turned green
E
And a paper plate from last week’s cuisine

E
Temperature’s pushing ninety-nine
G
Something in that bag has come alive
A
I grabbed both handles, started walking away
B7
Then something warm dripped down my leg…

(STOP)

Oh no.

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Chorus

E
TRASH JUICE!
G
Drippin’ from the bottom!
A
TRASH JUICE!
E
Good God, something’s rotten!

E
One little smell and your stomach says NO!
G
Your face turns white and your breakfast says GO!
A
Baking in the heat like the Devil’s fondue—
B7
If you smell that stink…

E
YOU’RE GONNA PUKE!

G A E

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Verse 2

E
Watermelon rind and a hamburger bun
G
Fermenting together at a hundred and one
A
Old baked beans and a mystery meat
E
Making biological weapons in the summer heat

E
Flies overhead doing figure eights
G
Even the raccoons won’t investigate
A
Neighbor came over, said, “What’s that smell?”
B7
I said, “Take one more breath and I’ll see you in hell.”

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Chorus

E
TRASH JUICE!
G
Drippin’ from the bottom!
A
TRASH JUICE!
E
Every molecule is rotten!

E
Hits your nose and your knees get weak
G
You can’t breathe, you can’t even speak
A
Your belly starts making that glug-glug-glug
B7
Then you’re fertilizing…

E
THE NEIGHBOR’S SHRUB!

G A E

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Bridge — Half Time

C
You can run…
G
You can hide…
D
But that smell gets deep inside

C
Through the window
G
Through the door
B7
WHAT THE HELL IS LEAKING ON THE FLOOR?!

(Band stops.)

(Quietly)
Trash juice.

(One guitar: E)

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Verse 3 — Build It Up

E
Now the garbage truck is coming down the street
G
Hydraulics groaning in the August heat
A
He lifts that barrel, I hear it pour
E
Like Satan making gravy at my front door

E
Driver jumps out, says, “Man, that’s rough.”
G
I said, “Buddy, you ain’t getting paid enough.”
A
He takes one sniff and turns around—
B7
And paints his breakfast on the ground!

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FINAL CHORUS

E
TRASH JUICE!
G
HOT! HOT! HOT!
A
TRASH JUICE!
E
EVERYTHING’S ROT!

E
MAGGOTS DANCING!
G
FLIES ON PARADE!
A
SOMETHING IN THERE USED TO BE POTATO SALAD!

E
NINETY-EIGHT DEGREES!
G
NOT A CLOUD IN SIGHT!
A
THAT BAG’S BEEN COOKING
B7
SINCE TUESDAY NIGHT!

E
TRASH JUICE!
G
DON’T BREATHE IN!
A
TRASH JUICE!
E
HERE IT COMES AGAIN!

E
You can plug your nose
G
You can hold your breath
A
But one good whiff
B7
SMELLS WORSE THAN DEATH!

E
TRAAAAAASH—

G
JUUUUUUUICE—

A
I THINK I’M GONNA—

E
BLEEEEUUURRGGHHH!

(Band hits E and stops.)

(Three seconds of silence.)

(Quiet voice)
“…bag ripped.”

E