Right away: if you reference your own song twice in the first verse and chorus, you deserve to be struck forcibly in the face with a liquor bottle. (Yes, Big Wreck, I'm talking to you too.) The musical complexity, which is layered and complex in GOOD polka, is lost here. It is on par with the chicken dance (whose creators should serious consider copyright violation lawsuits.) The rhythm changes suddenly and unexpectedly, as if the drummer and bassist had some sort of synchronized case of ADHD.
Yes, I know it's supposed to be a "FUN" song. The kind of fun that you listen to while maudlin drunk alone late on a winter night just before you empty a .45 hollow through your own skull, when you convince yourself you wont ever have the fun again because it's all dead gone and squandered. My own mother denounces my consideration of this song, and has told me as much. The new right hand extension by way of my cousin's marriage LOVES this song, she says. They would likely run me down like a convict for these words, and beat me apartheid style.
Let them come! I shall render judgment! I owe family nothing less.
For the glory of Khorne,
-Rictus