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lyrics

A lonely mad scientist in the dead of night 

A cold winters chill never felt so right 

You see this mad scientist had something brewed 

He knew it was hellaceous for me and you 



Dr! Bones rose from his grave 

The airtight coffin left him unscathed 

He found himself lost in the mist 

Looking for that evil mad scientist

B! This ain’t Raccoon City 
Or the Crossroads Mall 

R! When there’s no room left in Hell 
The dead will crawl 

A! So put the rude in the rude boy 

S! Skank to the ska 

S! You know those angels trumpets 

And devils trombones are gonna call BRASS HYSTERIA! 



That Queasy Weasel leading The Helltone Three 

Playing those Horns as loud as can be 

Angels Trumpets and devils trombones 

Calling out to depths unknown

credits

from Angels' Trumpets​/​Devils' Trombones, released July 1, 2011

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Brass Hysteria! Chico, California

Steeped in the deep black blood of nighttime, Brass Hysteria! takes the best qualities of ska, bluegrass, rockabilly and punk. Their on stage antics, versatility as an acoustic street band and amplified band makes them a force to be reckoned with.

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