If you step on the lawn I keep the foot
|
Peep, in the pot go 6 degrees of cooked geese
|
Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas
|
Over 10 meat hooks with a blister each
|
I'm all pincher, fever-y hoodie on, hoodie off
|
Sweat thru his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls
|
Never met a quiet storm that didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns that go click click clack
|
In territorial syntax
|
Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back
|
Pinball wiz in a thimble of sims
|
I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged
|
Kiss me I'm dead, nursing a mystery Dayquil
|
Led Zep staring daggers down page mill
|
How pray tell do he sit pretty when the ol' 1 2 unglue in a tizzy
|
Please hold for the don't play dull boy
|
Click, I am not a page or a pull toy
|
Came in the door and the floor is lava
|
Killjoy if your core more Norman Rockwell
|
Born home sick for an invisible address
|
Bat shit, bumble and bat around catnip
|
One black heart Katamari massive
|
Packed in a fat category 5 rat nest
|
Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace
|
Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy
|
Hate you, hate you more, no I hate you infinity
|
And Pangaea break into smithereens
|
Interlude prest-o change-o
|
If it move to quick oh whey oh
|
Right brain go white train Ramo
|
Mustache any old Money, "no!"
|
|
Merrily merrily merrily merrily
|
In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy
|
Frog men schooled by the god Ed Emberly
|
Pull dog sleds and exhume Dead Kennedys
|
Bet, moth into kerosene awful
|
A caution to straw men lost on vaudeville
|
A-morally mixing business with 144 dixie whistlers
|
Lawn chair, strong man twisted whiskers
|
NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers
|
Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ring-ers
|
Are you privy to the misadventures
|
It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street
|
With a lethally modified piccolo pete
|
There is admittedly an incredible mystique
|
To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep
|
48 strings of 12
|
That ring ring ring, whiz bang, jingle bells
|
And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy, classic
|
Fire in the hole backdrafting
|
Fold wild life out of the wolf pack wrapping
|
Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine
|
TNT plunger in all caps ACME
|
Blast off half the whole damn mapscreen
|
No sling no spear
|
I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears
|
Who been stung by an un-linked pinky swear
|
During his what-in-the-fuck-was-I-thinking years
|
Maybe an awkward phase
|
Like his acne and sophomore fade
|
Played, calling all out-of-work action figures
|
It was death by saturn missiles.
|
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-----------------
|
Saturn Missiles
|
| Aesop Rock |
