As each lunar cycle turns,
And the full moon appears,
An ingrained fear draws near,
For the moon affects the waves,
And humans are made of 60% water.
So, it stands to reason that it affects how we behave.
Piercing hands of demons creates wolfish knaves.
A slave to a phenomenon that leaves some depraved.
Time to get some meditation son.
In order to be saved,
From that primal nature, that turns us into simpletons.
Got to maintain some discipline,
In our own personal synagogues,
Or just exercise to attain some serotonin,
Got to rise up to the occasion like a totem,
Creating shenanigans like Pippin.
Got to enjoy each moment,
The skies like a membrane component,
With wind flowing like verses from a poet.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

As the lunar cycle turns,
The nocturnal beast yearns,
A carnal desire that starts to stir,
So, ya best be ready for some super *****.
For I’m in a mood like a typhoon,
Imma bout to consume,
You in the bedroom,
Don’t need no costume,
Give ya a gorilla press slam,
Like I’m Gorilla Monsoon.
Cause I ain’t no boon,
I’m dripping in doubloons,
Ready to explore her tomb.
That why my girls so good,
At shining my harpoon.
Got me wanting to finish her,
Call me Ed Boon.
Blame it on the moon.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.

This is the Moon mood,
That fools won’t tell you,
Got to find the tools.
To discover what is true.
Like you Blues clues.