Outta Ammo

by The Vee Bees

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about

The runnin' out of beer albun.
Not out to invent new recipes the VeeBees leave out all the filler and serve up just the meat, bread and chips with a splash of sauce for flavour and 6 cans of warmish cheap shit beer to wash it all down with.
Larrikin wit, killer riffs, V8 rhythm section and singalong anthems for
fans of Cosmic Psychos, Onyas, Powder Monkeys etc. Listeners in search of intellectual stimulation may be dissapointed.

credits

released March 20, 2014

Recorded live By Phil Lally at The Band room in Wollongong on Australia day 2013. A few overdubs chucked in over the following couple of months. Mixed by Phil. Mastered by Loki Lockwood. Artwork by Ben Hutchings. Graphic design by Jezza.

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about

The Vee Bees Queanbeyan, Australia

We are a 3 chord, dumb arse, punk'n'rock'n'roll band from Queanbeyan, Australia.
4 blokes, 3 chords, 2 brain cells, 1 carton of beer.
We formed in 2000 and are still hanging around like a bad fart, doing half arsed tours, and releasing albuns whenever we bloody well feel like it.
We're don't sing about nuthin' we don't know about.
Our songs are easy to play with a gut full of tinnies.
Get fucked.
... more

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Track Name: Doin'er Up
DOIN ‘ER UP

Bored her out four thou’ oversize
Top dead centre
Tuned by ear
I can’t believe me eyes
Cut out the rust
The Gold Coast chrome
Front quarter panel
Down the drivers side

I got a chrome rocker cover, a chrome sump plug
HEY - I’m doin ‘er up
I got fats on the back, I’m in the front
HEY - I’m doin ‘er up
Start ya bastard! The battery’s gone flat
HEY
Red back spider gear knob

In the driveway, on the stands
Front wheel bearing, dirty hands
Brand new rubber, brand new rims
Second hand carby, re-co’d diff
Donk in the shed, it’s in bits
This shit box is ratshit
But I’m doin ‘er up
Waiting for parts
I can’t get second, I can’t get first
HEY
Track Name: Meet My Middle Finger
MEET MY MIDDLE FINGER

Here we are, I just met ya
And I don’t like what I see
And there’s something I’d like you to meet

Got a finger for you WO-OH
Got a medal for me WAY-HEY

The fine art of fingering aint lost on me
I’ll give you the finger in the third degree
I’m gunna turn down the charm
So watch the end of my arm
You humpty dump diddy dumb dumb cunt
Fuck you very much

Got a finger for you WO-OH
Got a medal for me WAY-HEY

Meet my middle finger

Got a finger for you WO-OH
Got a beer for me WAY-HEY
Track Name: Fair Dinkum Rock'n'Roll
FAIR DINKUM ROCK’N’ROLL

As fair dinkum as Ned Kelly shootin’ a roo
And as rockin’ as Bon Scott
Singing Next To The Moon
More than just four good blokes
Playing stock standard rock’n’roll
The Vee Bees are fair dinkum
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll

If you like rough as guts
Dirty, dumb ocker rock
Tune in and listen to some
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll

As fair dinkum as a sharpie
Mucking up like a goose
And as rockin’ as the Tatts
Rock’n’roll and blues.
More than just four good blokes
Playing stock standard rock’n’roll
The Vee Bees are fair dinkum
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll

If you like rough as guts
Dirty, dumb ocker rock
Tune in and listen to some
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll

Four blokes, three chords
The musical equivalent of a kick in the balls
Two cans, two hands
The more that you drink the better it sounds
Everything louder than everything else
A lump of two by four
Belt some pub rock punk and dirty rock’n’roll
In ya ear hole

As fair dinkum as a ranga frying in the sunshine
And as rockin’ as Haydn, he’s sick of having a good time
More than just four good blokes
Playing stock standard rock’n’roll
The Vee Bees are fair dinkum
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll

If you like rough as guts
Dirty dumb ocker rock
Get real and listen to some
Fair dinkum rock’n’roll
Track Name: Dickheads Anonymous
DICKHEADS ANONYMOUS

You might think you’re a dickhead
But you’ve got nothing on me
I am A-grade dickheadedness
Of the finest quality
You look on with envy
Cos you’re not one of us
For your problem the solution is
Dickheads Anonymous

Dickheads Anonymous

Whaddya mean you’ve never heard of
Dickheads Anonymous?
This institution was around before
Dickheads roamed the Earth
Why be normal when you can be
A dickhead just like us?
Get qualified and certified at
Dickheads Anonymous

Dickheads Anonymous
Track Name: Outta Ammo
OUTTA AMMO


How ya going Davo?
I am bloody thirsty
I’m not surprised by half
Playing shit hot guitar
Is bloody hard
While you’re on your feet
Get yourself an esky treat

WO-OH, checked the house and whaddya know?
OH-NO, now we’re missing ammunition
WO-OH checked the esky and whaddya know?
OH-NO, we’re out of ammo

How ya going Glenno?
I am bloody thirsty
When you’re playing shit hot bass
You’ve gotta pour some grog into your face
Grab yourself a drink
Off the ice in the laundry sink

WO-OH, checked the house and whaddya know?
OH-NO, now we’re missing ammunition
WO-OH checked the sink and whaddya know?
OH-NO, we’re out of ammo

Well how ya going Nielo?
I am bloody thirsty
Even though you’re sitting there
Shit hot drumming makes you sweat
Don’t wait any later
Grab a beer from the frigerator

WO-OH, checked the house and whaddya know?
OH-NO, now we’re missing ammunition
WO-OH checked the fridge and whaddya know?
OH-NO, we’re out of ammo

Just in case you arx
I am bloody thirsty
Do I look like a camel?
Whaddya mean we’re out of ammo?
If I don’t get a cold beer soon
I’m gunna fucken die!
Track Name: Wife School
WIFE SCHOOL

It’s an emergency admission down the wife school,
Gotta get her in as quick as I can
When I got home from work late this arvo
She wouldn't crack me a can

And if you can't do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school
If you won’t do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school

I’m gunna send her down there in a rock’n’roll ambulance
To save vital seconds
She won't mow the lawn or do the dishes
She wouldn't crack me a can!
Skid marks in me undies, I’ve got nothing to wear
The kids are running feral, I’m losing my hair
And she won't fuck….
She won’t fucken change the oil in the truck.

And if you can't do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school
If you won’t do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school

I’m not hard to please but she won’t do her deeds
I’m gunna send her back to Wife School
Just like they should, they’re gunna learn her real good
Down at the Wife School
It ain’t bloody funny, she won’t scrub the dunny
I’m gunna send her back to Wife School
I told her, I told her, I told her and I told her

That if you can't do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school
If you won’t do that I'm gunna have to send you back to wife school

And the next thing ya know
While you’re waiting for her to go
Yeah the next thing ya know
She kicked me in the nuts
Track Name: The Horse And Jockey
THE HORSE AND JOCKEY

Alma works the beer tap
While we’re playing out the back
Sunday arvo beer garden
Tarcutta’s changed the map
Rusty’s singing grog rock songs
Shoey’s on the drums
Sheila’s dancing in the ute
Kids are chuckin’ water bombs

And Nanna said
Fuck me dead

Beer slopped on the concrete floor,
You’re gunna need two mouths for sure
We’ll rock any organ that you’ve got
“No, not mine you’re not!”
A good time was had by all
It’s time to hit the road‘n’that
A plastic bag full of ice
And a six pack

And Nanna said
Fuck me dead
Track Name: I Got Nuthin'
I GOT NOTHING

I got so much nothing
I don’t know where to start
I’m going fucken nowhere
And getting there fast
There’s nothing on the telly
Sitting here on the couch
There’s no fucken beer
In the fucken house
When is the money gunna roll on in?
I’m waiting for a gold nugget
To drop from my old ring

I got nuthin’, holes in me teeth
Even the hole in me arse ran out of stink
I got no brain, I can’t even think

I got so much nothing
I don’t know where it ends
Rocking horse shit
Teeth from a hen
I couldn’t win a chook raffle
Wouldn’t get a place
There’s no fucken beer
In this fucken place
At home on the throne, here I go again
I’m waiting for a gold nugget
To drop from my old ring

I got nuthin’, pissy little dick
Even the hole in me arse ran out of stink
I got no brain, I can’t even think

I got nuthin’ left in the tank
Can’t even muster up the energy I need
For a lazy left handed, three fingered wank
Track Name: Tommo's Gone To Argentina
TOMMO’S GONE TO ARGENTINA


He’d get drunk on rum
Then heckle you while you’re loading out his drums
Armpit stink like onion
Socially excited Aussie bloke out having fun
Lock up your daughters
And ya mum
Once was here but now he’s gone.

Tommo’s gone to Argentina

It’s beer o’clock
The fishing tackle’s packed away
But the wedding tackle’s out
Out for all to see
Thick at the base he likes to think
But he really is a dreamer
The VeeBees’ horn section has moved to Argentina

Tommo’s gone to Argentina
Track Name: I Can't Get Enough Rock'n'Roll
I CAN’T GET ENOUGH ROCK’N’ROLL

Tell me something I don’t know,
Nothing beats a dose of rock’n’roll
Down the hatch, the volume’s up
Pour some grog into ya guts
And you know
When Lemmy sings a song about the Ramones

That’s when I can’t get enough rock’n’roll

Tell me something I don’t know,
Nothing beats a dose of rock’n’roll
Down the hatch, the volume’s up
Down stroke riff up ya guts
And you know
When Joey Ramone goes wo-oh-oh

That’s when I can’t get enough rock’n’roll

Wo-oh-oh

When I’m down the front at a rock’n’roll show
When Lemmy sings a song about the Ramones
When I’m at home playing air guitar
The volume’s up, the beers are cold,
Me ears are shot and I’m off me guts
That’s when I know
That I can’t get enough rock’n’roll