Right now, my cranium is spacing out My brain is racing up and down and I'm left pacing like I saw an alien in a nightgown Man I can't really write right rite right now so I'm hoping this'll flow Maybe later still able to kiss and ***** the flames at the tip of a missile toe And Ms., miss it won't if you don't spit it slow Oh you know This is so that it'll go and blow Grow, explode the mind And then it glows For sure, no lie
I'm a show-off to get the mind out the gutter Up and out, now it's not about some snuffing out or really a ruffling bluff-like fisticuffs to handcuffs riff-raff fluff about my rugged Scruff McGruff tuff scuffed-up stuff with a huff and puffed-up "ruff! ruff!" buff enough rough and tough mudder style but Somewhat it's done out of love for even the loudest mouth out there somewhere, somehow
So someday in someway to someplace I'll send your message in my package and pass it Over and out Ground control and the days are long so I have the gift just to give the shout-outs Yeah before it's gone, oh Over and out
He might be a writer and he can't even hide it be- Cause communication's the communion, union of the unified nations Relationships and maybe even sensationalism But hatred rests in a safe the dangerous once made While a good intention not to mention is A common premise in this mix we try to fix And then we pray But in games we trust because We think it's made for us for fun and And what we crave, nuh-uh yuh-huh Uh-uh, uh-huh
So sometime for somebody, somewhen for someone or something I'm sending my message, my package I'm passing it Over and out Ground control and the days are long So I have a gift, oh to give my shout-outs yeah before they're gone Over and out
Now let us get some shut-eye so This introvert can shut-up, oh Over and out Who wrote it right on time about how
Somedeal and somewise it's this diss-functional brain of mine My pen's pensive motor-mouth is left rightly in its creative state of sane now I'm In between and staying safely stable Without withering within her ring somewhither with his SAM-wise fable And that my baby is what I call in-sane Able to lay it on our table when We're stripped bare to the underwear with Our ways and our whereabouts on paper, amen From an omen of ol' men Over and out, send