20 Questions

Ahhh... f*!*!*k It's so much easier to just sing it Universally loved by British toddlers: ("Yaangbluh Brah Blah!") By homeless French tuba players: ("Youengbluud Bress Baend!") By stoned American coeds: ("Yungbludd Braas Baand!”) ...Uh-huh.  Let's see: 6 albums, 15 years, 22 countries -- Who am I? (Y--------- B---- B---!) Try not to love me I know, right? For the people coming night after night My whole life here Maybe why I don't have a wife My lone vice Kill a drummer, light up a mic It's so nice Youngblood banging some brass Happened so fast Summer of lovin', my ass We got more hot shit than you can shake a dick at So ill, at the door you get a stamp and a sick bag You coming to the gig? I think your lady is I think she's having thoughts of having David's kids You coming to the gig? I think your man knows We got two fully-automatic trombones You coming to the gig? I think it's worth the price I think the saxophone section dresses awful nice You coming to the gig? I heard your mom say: "I could sit and listen to the trumpets all day!" Here's the part where y'all play: WHO AM I? (Y----B---D B---S B--D!) ...aaand back! Where you been for the last, like, decade? Last night? Sex tape, right hand -- Nahhh, I mean, how could you think that we could quit this sound? "Well, Nat left the band, it really let me down." Understandable His mandible alone will handle all the tones your band could know Intangible, like, how you make it danceable? Hey, bands thinking you can do this: your hands are full.  There's your answer, folks You can have the notes But it doesn't mean your music's not a joke And I don't care what kind of funny hat you're tipping, friend Just because you play a horn, you ain't sitting in "Don't be mean! That's my boyfriend Vincent!" Listen: asshole is my preexisting condition I rap, it's my job description Well, that and dissin' But for real, kids: You coming to the gig? I heard it's so bomb I heard they got not one but two dudes on the floor toms You coming to the gig? It's not a lot of cash I'd cut off a nut to get the tuba's autograph You coming to the gig? Well France is kinda far... Too bad, you shoulda seen the staff dancing on the bar You coming to the gig? Don't wanna miss the boat You can tell your crew that one time Mr. Skogen missed a note Hey mister tenor saxophone WHO AM I? (Y--NGB---D B--SS B-ND!) WHO AM I? (Y--NGBL--D BR-SS B-ND!!) Couple things: We don't listen to anyone else's say-so We don't got stage clothes We don't make great dough We don't play lame shows We don't do tame prose And if you're trying to break our balls, you better aim low We do blaze foes We do flame-throw We do maim those sticking with the same old lame-o play-dough preschool-age flow Don't know 'bout fame though You know my name, though You coming to the gig? It's off the hook, right? I'll play your kindergarten graduation, book flights! You coming to the gig? There's no one else to call! These ten dudes unplugged trump 'em all! You coming to the gig? Yup Three letters: Y... B... B! (...forever!) All night, all day Getting down, getting loud WHO AM I? (YOUNGBLOOD BRASS BAND!) For the kids, for their heads Every breath till I'm dead WHO AM I? (YOUNGBLOOD BRASS BAND!) For the past, for the now For the fire, for the sound WHO AM I? (YOUNGBLOOD BRASS BAND!) For the shows, for the fans For the love for the band WHO AM I? (YOUNGBLOOD BRASS BAND!) WHO AM I? (YOUNG! BLOOD! BRASS! BAND!) (YOUNG! BLOOD! BRASS! BAND!) (YOUNG! BLOOD! BRASS! BAND!) (YOUNG! BLOOD! BRASS! BAND!) (I don't know what that was... but it was a miracle.)