THE DISHES - 3

Chicago's where Capone made guys sleep with the fishes.
It's also the home of this band called The Dishes.
A fabulous foursome with the rock sound that's crude,
The team is three ladies, and a drum-playin' dude.
Jamming like Boss Hog on old tracks like "Strawberry",
They come in full-speed to bust your girl-rock cherry.
Pancake-yam riffs and lip-curling vocals abound,
With enough sonic feedback to deafen a hound.
They're gaining territory in an auditory war,
With more spunk in their trunk than that Mary Tyler Moore.
As for individual songs, there are ten on the list.
I could describe every one, but instead I'll say this:
The new album, 3, lays it out with no jive,
Letting you know The Dishes would rock your shit live!
You'd limp home from the concert, give a contented sigh,
Dripping like Richard Simmons' buttery, bacon-bronzed thigh.
'Cause these kids are like Balboa, serving double G-clef knockouts,
And like so many before them, they're here to rock out with their cocks out.
Er,.. you know what I mean.
VISIT THE DISHES HERE.