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FREE SONG PAGE
Hello, its another Chucktrevino.com Free Song Page! If you didn't know by now, this is the go-to musical webpage for strange, weird, unearthly-sounding music from a genuinely honest-to-goodness no-nonsense, home-grown, grass-roots, hard-bitten, veracious, intrepid, disillusioned, shattered, wretched, crazed, raving, demented, depraved, real-life tormented artist... me, Charles! Mark my words, I'm talking the real thing here: nobody's as tormented as old Charles, I can assure you most emphatically. Allow me, if you will, to expound on that last statement for a little while or two before you partake of this latest free song by Charles. Its as simple as this: being a natural born Seer (i.e., a person of extraordinarily acute perceptive endowments), I possess that highly coveted super-action-hero "insider vision," as its known in the industry, and as such am naturally and painfully cognizant of many of the more important conspiratorial coup d'etats that have occurred, are ocurring now, or will occur eventually in this wild, crazy, and beseiged country of ours, and accordingly, being a person of higher social conscience, I sometimes start to believe that I hear a noble little voice compelling me to make a valiant if pathetically weak attempt to raise public awareness as to the true intent of the perpetrators of our present state of unhealth and unhappiness, 
as well as prodding me to illuminate for posterity some of their devious methods and ways while also pointing out to an ignorant, gullible
public the inevitable social decline that must ensue if we don't all just stop your god-dashed bickering and pull together
as a team to defend ourselves against these parasitic, insipid, effete, cadaverous, worm-eaten little zombies, with their goddamned
"I just made $113 trillion in the stock market yesterday" bullshit (don't they make you just want to retch?
I tell you these losers make me seriously ill, people) and their ridiculous "you can't go out and congregate unless you're
disturbing the peace, rioting, looting, burning, defacing and destroying property, threatening and accosting people, laying siege
to and harrassing the homes of our critics and opponents until they have to come out and defend themselves with guns, blinding cops with
laser beams in the eyes, engaging in blatant acts of treasonous anarchy, and/or otherwise constituting a public
menace while protesting the crucifixion of the sacred messiah George Floyd, in which case your elected (most likely democrat) governing
officials, the ACLU, JDL (and the IDF too I suppose), and
thousands of other busy little organizations will protect you from any and all racist-fascist peacekeeping people who may try to spoil
your fun," along with their very appreciative and patriotic America-bashing media puppets, you-know-who ("hey people, let's all
support the movement to take down those white honky Mount Rushmore guys and replace them with rap and Dreamworks stars, ok?"), along with
their fuggin' this, and their friggin' that, and their gawdaaaah... um, uh-oh, I'm starting to deviate away from my
main subject a little... sorry...
Ok, back to business... yeah, so there I am, tormented by insider visions, and I'm hearing these noble little voices entreating me to remonstrate with all these super-wealthy walking-dead weirdos, and I'm just like a little bitty ant remonstrating at the bottom of their toes, bitching and quibbling up at them, you know... but then, at great personal risk, I valiantly work up the gumption to rise up and bite the goddamned bottom of one of their little toes! And then, lo, just because I go and do something quixotic and heroic like that (all for the good of mankind, with not an inkling of spite or malice involved, you understand), its like everybody thinks I'm supposed to be like some kind of real-life flying caped-crusading comic book super-hero spider/bat-guy, some omnipotent global-robo-cop guy or something... I mean all day long it's constantly like, "Charles, oh Charles! The corrupt, obsequious lackeys who serve the secretly ensconsed mass-murdering profiteers of war and human misery are at it again Charles, laughing as they use their political and economic muscle to reduce our country to a burning, smoking carcass of it's proud former self, while they corrupt our children, devastate our economy, use our military to invade their other victims' countries and start wars, and rob us blind of our assets and savings, what are you going to do about it Charles, huh what Charles, huh Charles?" What in tarnation?! I can hardly believe some of these partisans of mine. Such beleaguerment! I know, I know, there's no rest for the wicked, but what annoying pests "the little people" can be, with their incessant hero-worshipping of Charles! And if its not that, then they're all like, "Charles, oh Charles! The abject, artificial plasticity of this cultural-wasteland that we're living in has got everyone alienated from one another, everybody's just withdrawing into their own little shell to relate to the tawdry charms of their cell phones and computers, believing everything that titillates them there, and then ironically and tragically bonding with the very same villains that are asphxyiating their futures! Help them Charles, they're brainwashed zombies Charles, they need you Charles, only you can save them Charles!" And I'm all like, "Yikes! Get me outa' here dude! Eeeek!" And what about all these nut cases who're going around with this "Is he the divine one, the Son of God?" stuff? Jeez, how silly can people get? For christsakes you guys, God is my uncle, not my dad! And I'm not getting crucified or even put under house-arrest, nothing, not for nobody, so you can just forget all that "he died for our sins" bullcrap, got it? For all I care you can all go and sin all you want! Just don't be expecting this cherubic angel-faced choirboy 
to join in with all that wild, wanton, disgraceful pagan revelry, and share your fiery
fate when you go down there to you-know-where, amigos! Ha ha, not old Mr. Goody Two-Shoes! I'm going to be sitting
"up there" with my avuncular patron, just washing down Kentucky Fried Chicken drumsticks with some of that original Classic Coca-cola, with chocolate
chip ice cream and maybe strawberries for dessert, mmmmm, mmmmm, while you're down there eating... well... aw, let's just forget that.
I know its wrong to gloat like that... (sorry sinners; you must think I'm scum personified).
Oh, before we go any further, let me take this opportunity to affirm the well-known fact that I have never been one to take matters "lying down," as they used to say back in the good old day, back when cotton was king and men were men and didn't go around cowering under their Covid-19 masks, trying to hold muffled conversations on their cell phones through their stupid covid masks, asking directions and instructions and advice and things of that nature through their dumb Covid masks, sneezing and snorting and inhaling their own wretched CO2 through their gosh-damned idiot masks, sheeessh, I mean what's next guys? I heard the other day that now they're giving out thousand dollar citations for not wearing 'em while you eat at restaurants, or something ridiculous like that. You pay the fine, then you spend some more money to fight the ticket and get your money back, so it comes out ok in the end, you see, if you have the money to pay the fine, fight the ticket, pay all the attendant administrative fees to clear the record if you win... oh... that's if you win. If you lose, don't worry about the last item there. Fascinating, these new Covid laws, huh? But oh, I'm getting off the main subject here, I do that sometimes... now where was I before I diverged, wait a second... Oh that's right... I was telling about how I have almost never been one to take matters "lying down," but, however... enough is enough! I can only deal with a finite amount of blows at a time, and I think I may be starting to buckle; I'm even starting to have bad dreams. Yes, my troubled soul is tormented as all hell, and every day it just gets worse and worse, knowing everything the way I do... I'm just too erudite, knowledgable, and neurotic! It's a vicious unending cycle, and I want out. All I want now is to un-learn every miserable thing I've ever learned and live in a mental vacuum, my new motto being "Ignorance is bliss... and absolute ignorance is absolute bliss." I mean now I'm having dreams about getting thousand dollars tickets sent to me in the mail for not wearing my mask, like when you run a yellow light and they get you with one of those hidden cameras? (Little sidenote: And let me tell you, when you get that ticket in the mail you'd better be way "in the black," as the money people say, 'cause you're about to part with a lot of Benjamin Franklins there, pal.) Oh, I got a little off track again, now what was I saying before I diverted? I was lying down... dreaming... oh yeah! Then I dreamed I was Godzilla! Oh, it was horrible, sheer lunacy. I was like this big, rude, insensitive fire-belching idiot, just wreaking havoc everywhere I went, crushing cars, trains, even little bitty people with every clumsy step I took, causing such utter turmoil that the authorities felt justified in dispatching 
the air force, which provocatively began to bombard me with puny, insignificant little missiles and bombs that just bounced harmlessly off
my ultra-thick tough hide and which, quite understandably, perturbed and rankled me to the point where I felt compelled to return
fire using awesome, inflammatorily hot breath (which I found to my delight that I could project for hundreds of yards, thus making short
shrift of anyone or anything, airborne or otherwise, that had the temerity to cross my imperious path) and also, finding that I could somehow
shoot electric death-rays from my eyeballs (rays which could deal death to any organism, micro to macro, that suffered from the unfortunate
stupidity as to still be just milling around, just la-dee-da! you know, while a 3,500 ton armored monster with incendiary breath, a monster
obviously suffering from emotional upheavals of an unknown source, combined with superiority/inferiority-complex issues which make it hard
to deal with others in everyday situations, is just painting the entire town), I spontaneously elected to avail myself of some of those
neat-o death rays... and quickly found the tides of battle turning in my favor, ha ha!
"Oh my," some of you more genteel readers out there might be thinking right now, "this is barbarism manifested in a most raw and palpable form! Shame on Charles/Godzilla." But hey, I was just defending myself. And after all it was only a dream, albeit a very bad one. But continuing on with the dream: Reveling in my grandiose supremacy, I let loose awesome octave-spanning dinosaur howls of rage and fury mixed with cries and wails of pathos and despair, as I dispatched my ant-sized enemies with verve, swerve and gusto. But then I believe I began to take it all just a little too far... 
It has been said that if you want to know a monster's true character, you have to give him power. Unfortunately I discovered that upon being
so endowed, I became absolutely drunk with the power I wielded in my dream. Parading arrogantly about like a rock-star goaded into
a state of cocaine-fueled nirvana by thousands of screaming, worshipping fans, I went on a senseless, insane killing spree, crushing, dismembering,
destroying, devastating, incinerating, electrocuting, and otherwise jacking up people and infrastructure by the mega-ton! Then, imperiously
wheeling my admittedly (somewhat) rotund frame about, I used my deadly armored tail to cut a swath of fatal destruction, sweeping away cars,
people, dogs, whatever you got man, just like I was dustin' my broom, you know? It was all so easy that it was comical! In fact, I do
believe I would have died laughing if I hadn't been so busy bellowing out those octave-spanning dyno-wails, striking terror into the hearts of
thousands, ha ha! With no force strong enough to arrest my criminally-insane aggression, I plundered with impunity, growing more excited
with every passing second, until I reached such a heady state of mass-murderous ecstacy that I began to feel really dizzy. Next thing I know I had
"swooned" entirely out, conveniently collapsing against a handy nearby office building, crushing and toppling half of it over.
This gave my annoying ant-opponents a little time to regroup and decide what to do next, but you know what they all say... SIZE MATTERS! I'm afraid they were in a bit of a quandary, as I was too big to be easily moved; all they could do was run around, hemming, hawing and harrummphing as I lay there dreaming and snoring peacefully in la-la-land. And herein lies a lesson in life: If nobody's big enough to stop you, you can really just do anything you want and make everybody, like, you know... just shut up and deal with it! It really doesn't matter to you how much they bitch and moan and scream and holler and argue incessantly amongst each other about what should be done, as long as they don't actually do anything! You can be as evil and immoral as hell, kill as many people as you want, disrupt the status quo, hell, you can even take over the whole entire damn country and evict one in five of 'em from their homes if you want, then you can just drunkenly fall over in the middle of the street and simply lay there shamelessly, snoring and mumbling sheepishly to yourself in your sleep, and they'll just buzz about your snoring ass, frantically waving their hands in the air and flapping their tongues, doing absolutely nothing, you know, they're all just like: "what do you do with a drunken sailor, throw him in the brig or let him lay there?" Just yap yap yap, and nothing gets done! Why, because they've never been taught how to deal with a Godzilla of such magnitude that's why. And that's why I'm preparing my fabulous new "Guide to Dealing With Monstrosities of Any Size, Shape or Color" (available soon only from chucktrevino.com), a bargain at only $10 per (autographed copies available for only $6,793.43 per). This will be an easy-to-follow primer on how to recognize, deal with, and prevail over any over-bloated monster, anywhere, using a tool freely available to everyone: you're own powers of perception and reason! Watch for it. NOTE: I believe that I am eminently qualified to write such a tract, because... But you know, this dream had a somewhat happy ending (depending on whose side you're on); I (Godzilla) eventually woke up with a slight hang-over, hungering for some breakfast, so I rumbled and grumbled to my feet and made for the ocean, intent on getting some good fresh wild-caught seafood (big Godzilla monsters don't eat people, you understand -- we actually have more toothsome palates than that). To my credit, I only crushed a few things in my haste to get back to the water, some trains and cars, a couple of little buildings here and there, a few little bitty people who wouldn't get out of the way... you know, just a little collateral damage, nothing to get excited about.  What bothers me, really, is that I know there are people out there, my enemies, who are already running off at the mouth about how I actually enjoyed being Godzilla for a night; they're saying just because I'm little and have no money or political clout, that I take secret pleasure in dreaming about wielding immense power and being formidable, feared and respected. They're trying to say that I would be Godzilla if I only could, big and powerful, with that "take-charge" kind of physiognomy, instead of some crazy little ant-sized, toe-biting, ineffectual-looking Don Quixote guy. Rubbish! What a patently false, baseless, mean, petty, and disgusting calumny to spread about a person so devoid of malice that he couldn't even hurt a fly; that is correct, even if Charles were quick enough to catch that fly, he would simply mildly remonstrate with it then release it unharmed, and that's the stone-cold truth. These people spreading calumnies about Charles and his "power-hungry ambitions" are the personification of scum, and should be lined up and shot. Nya-ha-ha! See you little droogie-heads later. Click this link to download GODZILLA BLUES Click here to go back to Index Text, photos and song "Godzilla Blues" Copyright July 2020 by Charles Adrian Trevino. Thanks for coming; This is chucktrevino.com. |
