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(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis) |
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Bill Fries says that this is based on a true story from the late '60s, when a band of hippies rolled into Telluride and decided to stay. |
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One day about four or five years ago |
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We is settin' at the Conoco station |
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Kickin' tires, and swattin' flies, |
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And discussin' the State of the Union |
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When right out in front of the Baptist church |
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Come a big ol' purple school bus |
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Had astrological signs upon it |
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And thirty-five hippies and dogs inside |
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About half of 'em went for the courthouse lawn |
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And them dogs commenced on the fireplug |
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Rest of 'em set there starin' at us |
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And I says, "Roy, go get your Flit gun" |
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He says, "Which is the hippies? And which is the dogs?" |
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I says, "Beats the hell outta me, Roy." |
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What they was, was a bunch a' them Crispy Critters |
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And their leader was a space cadet |
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He says, "Sagittarius, we has arrived. |
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"Prepare to disembark, men. |
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"Get the incense goin' and the sitar out |
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"We gonna camp in the city park, man." |
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I says, "Boys, let me explain the situation to ya. |
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"A: you're gettin' me down |
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"And B: we got us a leash law here |
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"And C: you in the wrong town. |
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"You drop one string a' beads in that there park |
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"And you gonna see a whole lotta stars. |
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"You got fifteen seconds to get out of town, boys, |
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"Or we gonna blow ya ta Mars." |
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Well, they all got back in the purple bus |
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And proceeded to the city limits. |
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Then the telephone rang, was the swimmin' pool |
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Says a mess a' wild Critters was in it! |
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So we all got in the Marshal's Plymouth |
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(Which is always at the Conoco station) |
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Went flashin' on down to the swimmin' pool |
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To give them Critters a citation |
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By the time we arrived, it was too damn late |
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Them critters is all had their pants down |
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Them dogs was tearin' the bathhouse apart, |
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And they's after the fish in the fish pond! |
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I says, "Roy, you get the one in the silver T-shirt |
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"And I'll get the rest with a net. |
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"We gonna have a jail full a' naked Crispy Critters |
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"And a drip-dry space cadet." |
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[You've watched The Dukes of Hazzard, haven't you? C'mon, admit it; nobody's looking. Well, at this point in the song there's a short interlude which resembles a car chase on Dukes. There's banjo pickin' and yee-hawin' and a general sense of raucous abandon. Oh, yeah, and a few dog barks. It's round-up time at the swimmin' pool.] |
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Well, we gave 'em hell, but we lost the war |
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'Cause them Critters outnumbered us |
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So they moved in and set up camp |
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And they lived in that purple school bus |
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Six weeks later, there was nothin' in town |
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But eighty-four dogs and a head shop |
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Sellin' dried up weeds, and sunflower seeds, |
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And astrological postcards |
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Yeah, Critters took over the City Council |
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And the dogs all barked their brains out |
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And the whole damn town was Crispy Critters |
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And the mayor was a space cadet |
