1. Devil's haircut.
Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading and everywhere I look there's a dead end waiting, temperature's dropping at the rotten oasis stealing kisses from the leprous faces. Heads are hanging from the garbage man trees, mouthwash jukebox gasoline, crystals are pointing at a poor man's pockets, smiling eyes ripping out of his sockets. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Love machines on the sympathy crutches, discount orgies on the dropout buses, hitching a ride with the bleeding noses, coming to town with the brief case blues. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading, ghetto blasting disintegrating, rock 'n' roll, know what I'm saying, and everywhere I look there's a devil waiting. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Devil's haircut in my mind, devil's haircut in my mind, devil's haircut in my mind.
2. Hotwax.
It takes a backwash man to sing a backwash song, like a frying pan when the fire's gone, driving my pig while the band's taking pictures in the grass, in my radio smashed, and I like pianos in the evening sun, dragging my heels 'til my day is done, Saturday night in the captain's clothes, tender horns blowing' in my jury 'fros. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
I can't believe my way back when my Cadillac pants going much to fast, karaoke weekend at the suicide shack, community service and I'm still the mack, shocked my finger, spots on my hand, I been spreading disease all across the land, beautiful air conditioned, sitting in the kitchen wishing I was living like a hit man. Face down in the guarantees, jaundiced honchos getting' busy with me because I get down, I get down, I get down all the way. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders, western Unions of the country westerns, silver foxes looking for romance, in the chain smoke Kansas flash dance ass pants, and you got the hotwax residues, you never lose in your razor blade shoes, stealing pesos out of my brain, hazard signs down the Alamo lanes, radar systems piercing the souls, you never get caught with the wax so rotten, all my days I got the grizzly words, hijacked flavors that I'm flipping like birds. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
Who are you? I'm the enchanting wizard of rhythm, why did you come here? I came here to tell you about the rhythms of the universe.
3. Lord only knows.
You only got one finger left and it's pointing at the door, and you're taking for granted what the Lord's laid on the floor, so I'm picking up the pieces and I'm putting them up for sale, throw your meal ticket out the window, put your skeletons in jail. 'Cause Lord only knows it's getting late, your senses are gone so don't you hesitate, to give yourself a call let your bottom dollars fall, throwing your two bit cares down the drain.
Invite me to the seven seas like some seasick man, you'll do whatever you please and I'll do whatever I can, Titanic, fare thee well, my eyes are turning pink, don't call us when the new age gets old enough to drink. 'Cause Lord only knows it's getting late, your senses are gone so don't you hesitate, move on up the hill, there's nothing dead left to kill, throwing your two bit cares down the drain. Orale… Just passing through, orale…
Going back to Houston, do the hotdog dance, going back to Houston to get me some pants.
4. New pollution.
She's got cigarette on each arm, she's got the lily white cavity crazes, she's got a carburetor tied to the moon, pink eyes looking to the food of the ages. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
She's got a hand on a wheel of pain, she can talk to the mangling strangers, she can sleep in a fiery bog throwing troubles to the dying embers. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
She's got a paradise camouflage like a whip-crack sending me shivers, she's the boat in a strip mine ocean riding low on the drunken rivers. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
5. Derelict.
I dropped my anchor in the dead of night, I packed my suitcase and threw it away, I fell asleep in the funeral fire, I gave my clothes to the policeman. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
Shooting venom at the passers-by, I'm hi jacking stop the heaven down, I put my eyes in a paper bag, I'm spinning round like a gambling wheel. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
I dropped my anchor in the dead of night, I packed my suitcase and threw it away, I fell asleep in the funeral fire, I gave my clothes to the policeman. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
6. Novacane.
Keep on trucking' like a Novacane hurricane, blowing static on the paranoid short wave, short fuse, got to dismantle, code red, what's your handle? Mission incredible undercover convoy, full tilt chromosome cowboy, x-ray search and destroy, smokestack blacktop Novacane boy. Got some rum, longhorn drums, detonate with the suicide gate, test tube, stillborn and dazed, drugstore plains in the razor's haze, got the momentum radioactive, lowdown.
Circumcised for the operation, full spectrum generation, cyanide ride down the turnpike, after hours on the miracle mic. Grinding the gears eighteen wheels, pigs and robots riding on their heels, power through the roadblock, making a sandblast, diesel aluminum cruising like drain o, down the horizon purple gasses, semi trucks hauling their asses, Novacane, hit the road expressway, explode. Novacane, Novacane.
7. Jack-ass.
I been drifting along in the same stale shoes, loose ends tying a noose in the back of my mind, if you thought that you were making your way to where the puzzles and pagans lay, I'll put it together, it's a strange invitation.
When I wake up, someone will sweep up my lazy bones and we will rise in the cool of the evening, I remember the way that you smiled when the gravity shackles were wild, and something is vacant when I think it's all beginning.
I been drifting along in the same stale shoes, loose ends tying the noose in the back of my mind, if you thought that you were making your way to where the puzzles and pagans lay, I'll put it together, it's a strange invitation.
8. Where it's at.
There's a destination a little up the road from the habitations and the towns we know, a place we saw the lights turn low, the jig saw jazz and the get-fresh flow. Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts, two turntables and a microphone, bottles and cans just clap your hands, just clap your hands. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone. Take me home with my elevator bones, that was a good drum break.
Pick yourself up off the side of the road with your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones, members only hyponotizers, move through the room like ambulance drivers, shine your shoes with your microphone blues, hirsute with your parachute fruits, passing the dutchie from coast to coast, let my man Ken Wilson rock the most. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone. What about those who swing both ways? AC DC's?
Two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone.
Oh, dear me, make out City's a two horse town, that's beautiful, Dad. Got my microphone, there's a destination a little up the road from the habitations and the towns we know, a place we saw the lights turn low, the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow, pulling out jives and jamboree handouts, two turntables and a microphone, bottles and cans and just clap your hands, and just clap your hands. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone.
I got plastic on my mind, make it out, baby, let's make it out, baby. Telephone plastic baby, ah, so good, let's play good.
9. Minus.
The last survivor of a boiled crown, another casualty with the casual frown, the janitor vandals they bark in your face, juveniles with the piles and paste, it's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse, in the garbage glasses with the crutches of frogs, that bores.
Don't be confused when the fuse is up and you're taking a leak into your brother's cup, when the cup is filled you can run and be killed, in the billion miles of the muscles that build, radiation, feeling the force, karaoke, vomiting morons.
The scalps of zero hear the call, rubbing in a blind man's running hall, with the canker sores and the robot pill, throwing imbeciles on the window sills, it's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse, in the garbage glasses with the crutches of frogs, frogs, frogs, frogs.
10. Sissyneck.
I don't need no wheels, I don't need no gasoline, 'cause the wind that is blowing is blowing like a smoke machine, if I said to you that I was looking for a place to get to, 'cause my neck is broken and my pants ain't getting no bigger. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
All my friends tell me something is getting together, I got a beard that would disappear if I'm dressed in leather, now let me tell you about my baby, she was born in Arizona, sitting in the jailhouse trying to learn some good manners. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
Matchsticks strike when I'm riding my bike to the depot, 'cause everybody knows my name at the recreation center, if I could only find a nickel I would pay myself off tonight, 'cause nobody knows when the good times have passed out cold. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time. Don't talk to me if you're looking for somebody to cry on, don't talk to me if you're looking for somebody to cry on.
11. Readymade.
An open road where I can breathe, where the lowest low is calling to me, I can pull myself back up, back down, stuck together like a readymade. Nobody knows where we been, cancelled rations are running thin, watches tick out of tune falling apart like a readymade, my bags are waiting in the next life.
Rubbish piles, fresh and plain, empty boxes in a pawn shop brain, license plates stowaway, standing in line like a readymade, and my bags are waiting in the next life.
An open road where I can breathe, where the lowest low is calling to me, I can pull myself back up, back down, stuck together like a readymade, my bags are waiting in the next life.
12. High 5! (Rock the catskills).
High five, high five, high five, high five, c'mon on, eight, everybody, c'mon, seven, c'mon, now, six, five, I like that shit.
When I arrive it's like a high five, a slap in the face I love the taste, all my days with my wheelchair ways, watch me die in my suicide high, I don't mean to cause a holy commotion when I step to the room with a powerful motion, leopard skin let the records spin, 'round and round with the speed of sound.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from the Catskills, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Rocky mountain low we gotta go, put that gadget in the random mode, cripple candy rocking the Tandy, rumba, buckshot, doing the foxtrot, in my car sweating like a dog, beers and chairs new frontiers, on my way from the 'Frisco bay, dixieland, soda-pop man.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from the Catskills, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Yeah, put that machine in random mode, talking about popping chocolate, like in the last century, turn that shit off, man, what's wrong with you? Man, get the other record, damn.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Ok, now, who likes designer jeans, everybody, designer jeans, say oh, la la, sassoon, c'mon, one more time let me hear you say, oh, la la, Sassoon, just do it everybody, c'mon, now I want the ladies, all the ladies, say, Sergio Valente, sing it, girls, let me hear you say, Sergio Valente, say Jordache turned it up.
13. Ramshackle.
You've been so long, your blind eyes are gone, your old bones are on their own, so take off your coat, put a song in your throat, let the dead beats pound all around. We will go nowhere we know, we don't have to talk at all, hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
The bargains you drive, buckets and bags, and all your belongings, your train's in the sand, ramshackle land, let the rats watch the races. We will go nowhere we know 'til we find our one and all, hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
Praises get spent, your trick face is bent, pigsties and prizes, 'cause there's no kind of wealth you're suiting yourself, you leave yourself behind. We will go nowhere we know 'til we find our one and all, your hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading and everywhere I look there's a dead end waiting, temperature's dropping at the rotten oasis stealing kisses from the leprous faces. Heads are hanging from the garbage man trees, mouthwash jukebox gasoline, crystals are pointing at a poor man's pockets, smiling eyes ripping out of his sockets. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Love machines on the sympathy crutches, discount orgies on the dropout buses, hitching a ride with the bleeding noses, coming to town with the brief case blues. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Something's wrong 'cause my mind is fading, ghetto blasting disintegrating, rock 'n' roll, know what I'm saying, and everywhere I look there's a devil waiting. Got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind, got a devil's haircut in my mind.
Devil's haircut in my mind, devil's haircut in my mind, devil's haircut in my mind.
2. Hotwax.
It takes a backwash man to sing a backwash song, like a frying pan when the fire's gone, driving my pig while the band's taking pictures in the grass, in my radio smashed, and I like pianos in the evening sun, dragging my heels 'til my day is done, Saturday night in the captain's clothes, tender horns blowing' in my jury 'fros. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
I can't believe my way back when my Cadillac pants going much to fast, karaoke weekend at the suicide shack, community service and I'm still the mack, shocked my finger, spots on my hand, I been spreading disease all across the land, beautiful air conditioned, sitting in the kitchen wishing I was living like a hit man. Face down in the guarantees, jaundiced honchos getting' busy with me because I get down, I get down, I get down all the way. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
Sawdust songs of the plaid bartenders, western Unions of the country westerns, silver foxes looking for romance, in the chain smoke Kansas flash dance ass pants, and you got the hotwax residues, you never lose in your razor blade shoes, stealing pesos out of my brain, hazard signs down the Alamo lanes, radar systems piercing the souls, you never get caught with the wax so rotten, all my days I got the grizzly words, hijacked flavors that I'm flipping like birds. Yo soy un disco quebrado, yo tengo chicle en el cerebro.
Who are you? I'm the enchanting wizard of rhythm, why did you come here? I came here to tell you about the rhythms of the universe.
3. Lord only knows.
You only got one finger left and it's pointing at the door, and you're taking for granted what the Lord's laid on the floor, so I'm picking up the pieces and I'm putting them up for sale, throw your meal ticket out the window, put your skeletons in jail. 'Cause Lord only knows it's getting late, your senses are gone so don't you hesitate, to give yourself a call let your bottom dollars fall, throwing your two bit cares down the drain.
Invite me to the seven seas like some seasick man, you'll do whatever you please and I'll do whatever I can, Titanic, fare thee well, my eyes are turning pink, don't call us when the new age gets old enough to drink. 'Cause Lord only knows it's getting late, your senses are gone so don't you hesitate, move on up the hill, there's nothing dead left to kill, throwing your two bit cares down the drain. Orale… Just passing through, orale…
Going back to Houston, do the hotdog dance, going back to Houston to get me some pants.
4. New pollution.
She's got cigarette on each arm, she's got the lily white cavity crazes, she's got a carburetor tied to the moon, pink eyes looking to the food of the ages. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
She's got a hand on a wheel of pain, she can talk to the mangling strangers, she can sleep in a fiery bog throwing troubles to the dying embers. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
She's got a paradise camouflage like a whip-crack sending me shivers, she's the boat in a strip mine ocean riding low on the drunken rivers. She's alone in the new pollution, she's alone in the new pollution.
5. Derelict.
I dropped my anchor in the dead of night, I packed my suitcase and threw it away, I fell asleep in the funeral fire, I gave my clothes to the policeman. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
Shooting venom at the passers-by, I'm hi jacking stop the heaven down, I put my eyes in a paper bag, I'm spinning round like a gambling wheel. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
I dropped my anchor in the dead of night, I packed my suitcase and threw it away, I fell asleep in the funeral fire, I gave my clothes to the policeman. Blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air, blow back derelict when lay my soul in the foul of the air.
6. Novacane.
Keep on trucking' like a Novacane hurricane, blowing static on the paranoid short wave, short fuse, got to dismantle, code red, what's your handle? Mission incredible undercover convoy, full tilt chromosome cowboy, x-ray search and destroy, smokestack blacktop Novacane boy. Got some rum, longhorn drums, detonate with the suicide gate, test tube, stillborn and dazed, drugstore plains in the razor's haze, got the momentum radioactive, lowdown.
Circumcised for the operation, full spectrum generation, cyanide ride down the turnpike, after hours on the miracle mic. Grinding the gears eighteen wheels, pigs and robots riding on their heels, power through the roadblock, making a sandblast, diesel aluminum cruising like drain o, down the horizon purple gasses, semi trucks hauling their asses, Novacane, hit the road expressway, explode. Novacane, Novacane.
7. Jack-ass.
I been drifting along in the same stale shoes, loose ends tying a noose in the back of my mind, if you thought that you were making your way to where the puzzles and pagans lay, I'll put it together, it's a strange invitation.
When I wake up, someone will sweep up my lazy bones and we will rise in the cool of the evening, I remember the way that you smiled when the gravity shackles were wild, and something is vacant when I think it's all beginning.
I been drifting along in the same stale shoes, loose ends tying the noose in the back of my mind, if you thought that you were making your way to where the puzzles and pagans lay, I'll put it together, it's a strange invitation.
8. Where it's at.
There's a destination a little up the road from the habitations and the towns we know, a place we saw the lights turn low, the jig saw jazz and the get-fresh flow. Pulling out jives and jamboree handouts, two turntables and a microphone, bottles and cans just clap your hands, just clap your hands. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone. Take me home with my elevator bones, that was a good drum break.
Pick yourself up off the side of the road with your elevator bones and your whip-flash tones, members only hyponotizers, move through the room like ambulance drivers, shine your shoes with your microphone blues, hirsute with your parachute fruits, passing the dutchie from coast to coast, let my man Ken Wilson rock the most. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone. What about those who swing both ways? AC DC's?
Two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone, two turntables and a microphone. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone.
Oh, dear me, make out City's a two horse town, that's beautiful, Dad. Got my microphone, there's a destination a little up the road from the habitations and the towns we know, a place we saw the lights turn low, the jig-saw jazz and the get-fresh flow, pulling out jives and jamboree handouts, two turntables and a microphone, bottles and cans and just clap your hands, and just clap your hands. Where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone, where it's at, I got two turntables and a microphone.
I got plastic on my mind, make it out, baby, let's make it out, baby. Telephone plastic baby, ah, so good, let's play good.
9. Minus.
The last survivor of a boiled crown, another casualty with the casual frown, the janitor vandals they bark in your face, juveniles with the piles and paste, it's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse, in the garbage glasses with the crutches of frogs, that bores.
Don't be confused when the fuse is up and you're taking a leak into your brother's cup, when the cup is filled you can run and be killed, in the billion miles of the muscles that build, radiation, feeling the force, karaoke, vomiting morons.
The scalps of zero hear the call, rubbing in a blind man's running hall, with the canker sores and the robot pill, throwing imbeciles on the window sills, it's a sensation, a bankrupt corpse, in the garbage glasses with the crutches of frogs, frogs, frogs, frogs.
10. Sissyneck.
I don't need no wheels, I don't need no gasoline, 'cause the wind that is blowing is blowing like a smoke machine, if I said to you that I was looking for a place to get to, 'cause my neck is broken and my pants ain't getting no bigger. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
All my friends tell me something is getting together, I got a beard that would disappear if I'm dressed in leather, now let me tell you about my baby, she was born in Arizona, sitting in the jailhouse trying to learn some good manners. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
Matchsticks strike when I'm riding my bike to the depot, 'cause everybody knows my name at the recreation center, if I could only find a nickel I would pay myself off tonight, 'cause nobody knows when the good times have passed out cold. I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time.
I got a stolen wife and a rhinestone life, and some good old boys, I'm writing my will on a three dollar bill in the evening time. Don't talk to me if you're looking for somebody to cry on, don't talk to me if you're looking for somebody to cry on.
11. Readymade.
An open road where I can breathe, where the lowest low is calling to me, I can pull myself back up, back down, stuck together like a readymade. Nobody knows where we been, cancelled rations are running thin, watches tick out of tune falling apart like a readymade, my bags are waiting in the next life.
Rubbish piles, fresh and plain, empty boxes in a pawn shop brain, license plates stowaway, standing in line like a readymade, and my bags are waiting in the next life.
An open road where I can breathe, where the lowest low is calling to me, I can pull myself back up, back down, stuck together like a readymade, my bags are waiting in the next life.
12. High 5! (Rock the catskills).
High five, high five, high five, high five, c'mon on, eight, everybody, c'mon, seven, c'mon, now, six, five, I like that shit.
When I arrive it's like a high five, a slap in the face I love the taste, all my days with my wheelchair ways, watch me die in my suicide high, I don't mean to cause a holy commotion when I step to the room with a powerful motion, leopard skin let the records spin, 'round and round with the speed of sound.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from the Catskills, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Rocky mountain low we gotta go, put that gadget in the random mode, cripple candy rocking the Tandy, rumba, buckshot, doing the foxtrot, in my car sweating like a dog, beers and chairs new frontiers, on my way from the 'Frisco bay, dixieland, soda-pop man.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from the Catskills, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Yeah, put that machine in random mode, talking about popping chocolate, like in the last century, turn that shit off, man, what's wrong with you? Man, get the other record, damn.
High five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket, high five, more dead than alive, rocking the plastic like a man from a casket.
Ok, now, who likes designer jeans, everybody, designer jeans, say oh, la la, sassoon, c'mon, one more time let me hear you say, oh, la la, Sassoon, just do it everybody, c'mon, now I want the ladies, all the ladies, say, Sergio Valente, sing it, girls, let me hear you say, Sergio Valente, say Jordache turned it up.
13. Ramshackle.
You've been so long, your blind eyes are gone, your old bones are on their own, so take off your coat, put a song in your throat, let the dead beats pound all around. We will go nowhere we know, we don't have to talk at all, hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
The bargains you drive, buckets and bags, and all your belongings, your train's in the sand, ramshackle land, let the rats watch the races. We will go nowhere we know 'til we find our one and all, hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
Praises get spent, your trick face is bent, pigsties and prizes, 'cause there's no kind of wealth you're suiting yourself, you leave yourself behind. We will go nowhere we know 'til we find our one and all, your hand me downs, flypaper towns, stuck together, one and all.
· · ·
Año: 1996.
Procedencia de la banda: Los Angeles (California), Estados Unidos.
Año: 1996.
Procedencia de la banda: Los Angeles (California), Estados Unidos.
· · ·
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