I am a man who uses the techniques of a bat to navigate…
Yeah mother fucker mother fucker
From the underfunded klutz that never undercut the butcher
The pick a booger at your wake is bumpin ‘im your pusher’
Also at your wake, juvenile intruders at the gate brooding over waking history that bubbles from the blinking 12s of VCRs and Microwaves like time machines for shrinking elders rifling through the recipe
Carrots, onions, celery
What unique amalgam of piss and re-pungent energy
Spun em out of the 70s to bee line for dessert fire eater trying to keep it the green side of the dirt
Its teatime with the worst geriatrics on the decline of berserk
Back in my day we were 3 times more alert
Now I go through my old clothing trying to find nostalgic threads to sell
Walk away feeling I should have never dressed myself
Sincerely I was never on the cutting edge
My hand was on the hilt, your freedom billed with the other end
Shriek into the vacuum, if in spite of your accomplishments, if you wake up feeling empty like Houdini’s grave probably is
Volley with the quintessential digital age I’m offended by everything
My opinions come in a manger, oh boy
Depreciating since they drove me off the lot
Still into ghost stories, the pot, and a classic coke and a brat
Procedural crime drama shows with holes in the plot and reminding clones that there’s more to coping then a nose full of snot
Old pros throw bones to the 808
You couldn’t throw a rope over a baby gate
Bishop to queen four, and Dan Daniels under ram skulls
Plan for cloudy with a chance of anvils
Fervor dreams of padded cells and jagged pills and frozen pipes
Socialites from pageant hell with plastic smiles and robot eyes
I’m hoping you all grow into the sentience you assume is your moment of self reflection is a moment for me to
Look, with the steel chair shirt I surfed to feel rare brush up your invasion
I was on that constant feudal raids before the internet
I’ve been ignored for longer then you’ve been interested
The posse promised you that nobody feels threatened by a scarecrow covered in crows who feel welcome
Thats like hellions thinking hell is just OK but needs some polish
It helps to know intimidation is all about the objects
Come duck a bounty its a hoot, Suffolk county its a zoo
Puppy chow and bitches brew
Its not exactly chicken soup
Its heavy lifters lifting
Its gensing
Its whistling
Its we do’nt find a flippancy convincing
Two for flinching
Older Yeller never knew a no-kill shelter in his doggy days
Now I draw my neighbors over Kouign-amanns and coffee stains
Got me on some other shit
Got me on some other shit
Got me on some other shit