Don't drink gasoline, PSA, but these guys did. Show me the cover artwork for the PSA safety commercial by the Ghost of Hinge by the Douglas Info Safety Company. Mixed jingles. Show me the cover artwork. A smoky VHS-era fever dream rolls onto the screen... 📼⛽👻 The “single cover” for the fictional PSA safety commercial: “Don’t Drink Gasoline” by The Ghost of Hinge Presented by Douglas Info Safety Company Picture this cover artwork: A haunted 1970s educational-film aesthetic with grimy airbrushed textures Four deadpan band members in polyester safety uniforms standing beside a rusty gas pump One guy holding a funnel with a skull-and-crossbones sticker while another looks violently ill A translucent ghost emerging from a crooked screen door hinge in the background Safety mascots and warning labels scattered everywhere like a low-budget corporate nightmare Bold PSA lettering: “DON’T DRINK GASOLINE!” underneath: “A Mixed Jingles Safety Presentation” Colors: nicotine yellow, faded teal, hazard orange, and VHS static gray Tiny fake disclaimer at the bottom: “Douglas Info Safety Company Educational Audio Division, 1983” The whole thing feels like a safety tape somebody found melted inside a school AV cupboard next to a warped cassette labeled “FORKLIFT JAMBOREE.” 🔧📺 It's a single from the Safety album. Generated image: Don't drink gasoline! safety first Edit Don't drink gasoline!

Verse 1

Hey there folks, gather round and listen close,

Gasoline’s for trucks and cars, not for your throat.

Keep it in the tank where it belongs, real neat,

Don’t go near it with your mouth — it ain’t something to eat!

Chorus

But screw the warning, these boys don’t give a damn,

They’re chugging gasoline like it’s the best moonshine plan!

Your insides will be on fire, burning hot and mean,

You’ll end up dead, crossing over, know what I mean?

Verse 2

Look at Bubba, grinning wide with a big red cup,

Pours it straight from the jerry can and bottoms it up.

“Tastes like freedom, boys!” he yells out loud and proud,

Now his throat’s melting down while he’s staggering around.

Chorus

Your insides will be on fire, burning hot and mean,

You’ll end up dead, crossing over to the other side scene.

No joyride waiting, just a one-way trip instead,

You’ll end up by the pearly gates, having a chat with Saint Peter, red!

Verse 3

Hey there Ricky, put that pump hose down right now,

Too late — Ricky’s sucking regular like a thirsty cow.

Chugging it fast, eyes spinning, legs gone weak,

Screaming “I got superpowers!” while his guts start to leak.

Verse 4

Darlene darling, that mason jar ain’t for sweet tea mix,

She stirred in unleaded with Mountain Dew, took a big swig and fixed.

Lit a cigarette right after, didn’t even think twice,

Pow! Her insides exploded like the Fourth of July fireworks.

Chorus

Your insides will be on fire, burning hot and mean,

You’ll end up dead, crossing over, wiped out clean.

No more cruising backroads, no more Friday night fun,

Straight to the pearly gates for the holy one-on-one.

Verse 5

Earl over yonder swears it’ll make him strong like diesel,

Downs a whole quart neat, then tries to wrestle a bull, no whistle.

Foaming at the mouth, twitching hard on the gravel ground,

Crossed over to the other side before the sun went down.

Verse 6

Cletus joins in, thinks he’s smarter than the rest,

Siphons from the sheriff’s car under the moonlight crest.

One spark from his lighter and the whole field goes boom,

Now he’s just a memory and a smoky perfume.

Big Chorus (louder, more chaotic)

Let’s all get together, this one’s for Alabamaaa!

We tried to warn you nice but y’all went full stupid drama!

Your insides will be on fire, mate, there ain’t no coming back,

You’ll end up by the pearly gates having a long chat with Saint Peter, jack!

Saint Peter looks at Bubba, Ricky, Darlene, Earl, and the crew,

Shakes his head and says, “Boys, what the hell did you do?

You had every chance to leave that petrol alone,

Instead you drank it down and made this graveyard your new home.”

Final Breakdown Verse

Little Timmy’s daddy thought it’d make him Superman tough,

Drank two gallons straight then tried to lift the pickup — what a bluff.

Collapsed right by the pump, twitching, coughing, turning blue,

Now the whole damn county knows what not to do.

Final Chorus music completely broken — off-key screaming, sirens, explosions, flatline beeps, vomiting sounds

Let’s all get together… this one’s for Alabamaaa!

We ain’t saving nobody, they’re all too busy dying drama!

Your insides will be on fire, burning white-hot clean,

You’ll end up dead, crossing over, living out the dream.

There’s a whole buncha ways to live a long and happy life…

These Alabama idiots picked the one that ends it with a knife!

Don’t chug that gasoline, boys — you’ll get there faster than you think,

See y’all upstairs, you beautiful, brain-dead, redneck freaks.

Tagline (raspy, half-dead voiceover fading out with coughing and beeps):

Don’t drink the petrol… Your insides will be on fire. You’ll end up dead. Crossing over to the other side. You’ll end up by the pearly gates, having a chat to Saint Peter, mate. Y’all have a nice trip, you absolute morons.