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Soul Crusher

Band Members

Rob Zombie -Vocals
Tom Five – Guitar
Sean Yseult – Bass
Ivan de Prume – Drums

At a Glance

Produced by Wharton Tiers, White Zombie
Length 37:40
Label Silent Explosion, Caroline
Released November, 1987

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Album Tracklist:

Side One

Track Title
Track Length
1 Ratmouth 03:41
2 Shack of Hate 02:55
3 Crow III 04:54
4 Drowning the Colossus 03:50
5 Die Zombie Die 04:07

Side Two

Track Title
Track Length
1 Skin 03:37
2 Truck on Fire 04:06
3 Future Shock 03:10
4 Scum Kill 03:42
5 Diamond Ass 03:40
Lyrics - Click to Expand/Close

1 Ratmouth

A knuckle duster is the most deadly in the ponderous pace
Of floating justice single-handed dynamo.
Take it now, say the way we want and not for you to point the finger
combustible in a word fuck’n. Say the word and you’ll be free.
Contunue your journey Superman say I am we can put you down
not a wizard-boy question just a demonstration of definition.
Silver city crusading to the top of a fug’n bone break most
vile experiment ready to eat your ass. Clockface. Bigtime.
We are. Somekind. Say it. Like always.
Sound + silence promote the zero.
A steel hammer game from me to you, but I don’t mind the matter.
Ratmouth don’t know what you need just know what you want.
‘Walking dead’ crawling bloodthirsty Hollywood demon flower grow in the
Valley of Love like a freak highway accident.
Last ride rolling down say hi-density.
Glory stomp gonna make the girl in the room +
in the house turn and see that I ain’t there…

2 Shack Of Hate

Ze wheels o’ fire. A doubleman defier. A motor and I.
Regenerate I am. Your final pompeii. O ‘etched in acid.
Like a shack of hate. Love in the gut a downbeat ceasar.
Mother’s holly roller. The invasion-man. She a real.
A real fuck invention. Like mississippi sway’n.
Persasion. Atomic. Eat it. Atomic. Eat it.
What is a man if not a he’s a rebel rouser.
Yea mechanized death. This is what you need.
Las Vegas loser. A fuck’n crazy horse.
Violent staisfaction switching the body. To a shack of hate.
Automation. The skin buckles. This is what you need.
A flesh surrender. Cruxifiction burns.
Sex Mutilation a dead diamond. This game is mine. Atomic.
Eat it. Atomic. Eat it.

3 Drowning The Collosus

What are you? I say to me.
A privilege machine man in the valley of the ice house.
Yeah? Joke so old that it is new.
Cause the innocent they know thier place.
In this slug motion dinosaur. Skin beating heart breathing.
Eyes humming. Walls splashing.
Blue blood spits from the Butcherboy.
Just split the head and stand back.
Out of the chaos comes a reason whipcord yea!!
Hell on Earth a semi-trane. Exression of pre-occupation skin beating.
Heart breathing. Eyes splashing. Walls humming.
Soul Crushing. Soul Crushing.

4 Crow III

“He can’t get away with by the time,
he gets in front of the jury he’ll be a good boy;” said man one.
At a little before 5′oclock he when through the basement.
“Yes or no!” demanded man two bantering humor dry in his throat.
“Is there more than what she gave you?”
questioned man three as a growing flicker.
Waved across his eyes. “No!”
The space surrounds constitutes a classic climate
this happens to now everyone in the room.
You feel traces a dying sound listen to the time of your life.
Standstill panic stricken.
Ringing the bells of a empty houses someone answers and calls you,
transfixed by committed you say “I aint no guillotine”
The girl spoke from the doorway in her rasping voice
“what he wants is in the house” the words hung there for a moment.
Bending forward she plucked she plucked the ashes from his cigarette
and said something nobody could understand.
Nobody could understand, nobody could understand.
One moment of irritation you call back “why me?”
the vantage point above the street
can be exhilarating falling back to a perspective odyessy.
A track of thunder. Tower lust of decomposed intesity.
I am I am I am I am….

5 Die, Zombie, Die

What is it? What it is. What is it?
Dazzling, yea starving town, starving town, out of the cold, out of the cold
(Die, Die, Die!) Moneyman rumble. Dreamtime maker.
Dressed to kill. Crybaby keeper.
Nature of the madness. Lies very still.
Shadow boxing motions a real believer.
Areal believer. Look here, get it and go, look here.
Seduction in a new new world, seduction. Into the fire
(Die, Die, Die!) Cannibal collision american girl.
Suck in your gut. Unlike before yea, unlike before, if you murder.
Object of desire. Now come and get it. Get it! Come get it! Come.
While I roustabout. Brutalities inflictied. A rush across the room.
While the city sleeps. I want to ask you. What’s in store?
Fleshy jaws. Now wait a minute.

6 Skin

Have no eyes, I must see, you walk out,
a violent burst of some kind kind kind kind,
mindstate a dirty little drunk and cluttered.
Shinning a problem of pictorial illusion,
dump the trunk and tear the little freak out out out.
An unparallelleled account of collapse appearing like yourself
liberation appearing like myself mutilation.
Hold still now, nobody turns, said yeah!
Thier back on me. Silence is deafening desperate waking up.
Motive spasm my back aches.
Termination detentation, da-la-sco..
now this room don’t seem so small sitting here in a cage
of some kind kind kind kind miracle and some hallucination,
dropped excitement from my last words shut the door
and turn the T.V. on on now that I’ve done all that I can.

7 Truck On Fire

Dead in the back. Midnight sun taking all that money
can buy human wreckage electrica man’s first approach.
Death takes a ride taking a holiday.
Slick and clean a murder machine.
Tracks off the road skidding towards thunderhead.
Teasing the rail sparks from his brain slashing.
Yeah cribdeath, killing the craddle, crunching the baby in a dashboardlight.
Yea like some cheesy ass figurines,
Jesus, Mary, Joesph crushed into her fuck’n head,
sprayed against the windshield, profit or pleasure I swear I swear.
Blasting away a bitch in the back 18 yea 14 childbride sunshine sex.
Big day exit whiskey o’women winning winning spree so long.
Skin bone fabulous path fireball fun radio on cranking saying.
Somekind of portable radio melted into her screaming legs.
Keep on keeping, remote images, serious discomfort,
a story of more than cheap thrills,
incestous demonized desire made to be broken,
made to be broken, made to be broken….

8 Future Shock

Years have a come and gone. Now I stand forward.
More than I ever was. Assault and reassemble. Mr. Paranoid.
A real backseat driver. But, I had to move out of there.
Yea as fast as I can. Time waits for no one.
When its crawling up the walls. But I never wanted this.
I never wanted this. Lines of amusement cracked on my face.
Like some apalling beauty coming up out of the floor,
but you had to admit there was no explaining this there was no explaining this,
no clumsy moral corruption substituting the conscience like some ape ancestor,
ape-incestor grinning under his pompous robot rack overboard.
“Hey, buster” Just how you doing.
An uneasy alliance leaving more dirt than before.
Before they ever knew what hit ‘em.
Yea what hit ‘em. What can I do for you?
Just shut up and get in the fuckin’ car!

9 Scum-Kill

Reconstruction idea take the ultimate trip yea ultimate trip
assasination-invasion a criminal masterpiece hang on the walls
like a gold on the moon.
Thunderbolt fist, rocket feet a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,
cry and you cry alone. Love as they please in Hitler’s brain.
T-bird bitch’n the bad girl. Sweet savage a swing’n baby.
But you can ride ride ride the wild surf.
Quicksand hand racing fever a lot of speed can really move ya.
Hey, did I fuck’n win! I’m a real pyro-man. Riot and shock.
Return and burn. Pretty poison just sit bizarre.
Playing it. Play’n it. Play it cool.

10 Diamond Ass

Asylum erotica. Yea I said the ones on the wheels.
Doomsday machinist. Flying out the window.
She’s looking strange.
Nowhere to nowhere diamonds she’s got what it takes diamonds forever.
You’d be surprised. Come on baby get it in gear.
Stone-face and rawmeat. Nowhere to nowhere diamonds.
Projected from above. A dead astronaunt returns. Buried in 69.
Brain is all crystalized more horrible than before, parasite sucking style.
Hey, yea man it’s out of sight. Anti-christ service.
Hey, yea man it’s out of sight.

Album Credits

Art Direction Rob Zombie, Sean Yseult
Engineering Wharton Tiers
Photography Michael Levin
Production White Zombie, Wharton Tiers
Recorded At Fun City, New York
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  • ana gimenez November 29, 2012 at 1:32 pm

    Love rob !!! I like you dicograpy!!! Soy de argentina… Aqui hay muchos q te siguen….

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