Fly you fool People only get older And poetry doesn't always need to rhyme Life hands you lemons But my tequila requires limes
What's the recipe for ice? Can't see with 20/20 vision eyes Fighting for a far off cause And Santa Clause
Whatchamacallits And compost heaps Michigan to Denver Face down in the mud The baker helps me up He's up at 2 AM To hand out yesterdays left overs to the hobos and bums
Elliot Ness and Pat Garrett are on the trail But The Iceman is watching patiently in his quiet suburb to emerge and bathe himself in their agony and his compensation
Hush puppies and truffle fries Go-carts zooming through the race riots
Stomp Tap Snap Clap And sing along around the wishing well Across the universe Along the watchtower With the brooding troubadour
The truth is ugly Unless it sugarcoats itself with a false foundation and misleading mascara
The burning bush spits out orders like ticker tape
I reckon its witchcraft Either that Or vertigo and dream piercing alarm clocks Snooze
I AM VICE PRESIDENT AGNEW Take it all away
The air is polluted with "love" Or self-satisfaction disguised as love
More often than not Almost always I want you Just you
I use geometry to calculate all these feelings In summation, I'm insane but not as insane as you for loving me
Fractured my scaphoid Now I'm paranoid of curbs and confrontation
I board the drunken ship And circle Pangaea
We don't need a meteorologist to tell us the wind is with us, on our side As we float on to the next one
My optometrist from Minnesota calls me and tells me my state of the art x-ray specs are in
I pulled something in my back, slipped a disk
Gentlemen, I take my leave
I've been the liar The actor The martyr The scribe The one under the microscope hating every second The one on the wanted poster
I can take your boos I can guzzle your ***** Then clog your toilet And walk away clean
Satan checks my blood pressure Gives me ten milligrams of ****** and unleashes me upon the world
I burn the corks and crack the plates I litter the empty bottles to leave them for the rest of you to recycle
Can you handle change? Can you hold your own during the transformation? This erratic evolution of the soul and person?
You've been in the honor society Have you been inmate 107501? Then what do you know?
You've been converted by the prizes in cereal boxes Save the box tops and mail them in for an all expense paid trip to Crimea
Take this box cutter and do your worst
Your tongue licks away this candy shell of doubt that surrounds me Until you reach the chewy center and free the surreal pleasure of sweetness