From the recording First Offensive (2008)
Music & Lyrics ©2004 by Scott C. Kardell (BMI)
Recorded and Mixed at:
Extra Fish Recording and Creative, Ozaukee County, WI
Sound Engineer: George Nestler
Scott Kardell: Vocals, Keys
Alicia Kardell: Vocals, Bass, Aux. Percussion
Dave Rank: Vocals
David Behrel: Lead Guitar
Jason Fabus: Alto Sax
Tom Barnum: Tenor Sax
Jared Schulz: Trumpet
James Grall: Drum Kit
Lyrics
All I ever wanted
Was to find some peace inside;
I've studied ninety-seven ways,
In experts I confide.
But everybody has
a different method I should try,
So I've put them all together,
And made my own religious pie.
Listen to me carefully,
I'll give you an example:
I know a man in Springfield
Who attends Masonic Temple.
On his way home he holds
A crystal in his hand,
Singing pentatonic music
By a new Tibetan band.
I have a friend in Sante Fe--
She is so enlightened;
She says, "Everything is God,"
But she has made me frightened.
For when I cut the grass,
I hear a faint scream;
And the trees look down on me with shame,
And speak to me in dreams.
Burning incense in the air
(My asthma got to me),
Spreading karma everywhere
(Don't want to be a flea),
Wearing magic underwear
(It goes down to my knees),
The last ingredient in my recipe--
Is Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!
Judy is a college girl--
She is so open-minded;
She heard Nirvana's out there,
So she set herself to find it.
She says there is a future
In reading palms and cards;
And she listens to the forest,
And moves only by the stars.
My cousin in L.A.
Ascribes to meditative yoga;
My former boss's neighbor
Smokes peyote in a toga.
They've searched and hoped
For something supernatural manifested;
It's so impressive just to see
The time they have invested.
Burning incense in the air
(My asthma got to me),
Spreading karma everywhere
(Don't want to be a flea),
Wearing magic underwear
(It goes down to my knees),
The last ingredient in my recipe--
Is Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!
Every time I turn around
Somebody seems to have a new way
To Nirvana and peace
While standing on my hands to pray.
But the voices in my head
Cause me to wonder and to dread;
Is there anybody there at all?
My muscles ache, my brain is fried--
I'm dizzier than normal;
And I don't have a toga
For tonight's peyote formal.
Can anyone who's out there
Offer me another plan?
I can't help but wonder if
There isn't something better than--
Burning incense in the air
(My asthma got to me),
Spreading karma everywhere
(Don't want to be a flea),
Wearing magic underwear
(It goes down to my knees),
The last ingredient in my recipe--
Is Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!
Rub Da Buddha!