She ain't nothing but a cereal killer
She's ****** with a gallon of milk
If you need convincing, Cap'n Crunch is still missing
And that Chocula guy is down for the Count

She ain't nothing but a cereal killer
Gets her Kix pulling off her Trix
As she bids them Cheerio being more in the know
Than a bowl of FrankenBerry buried below Honey Oh's

She ain't nothing but a cereal killer
Winning them over with her Lucky Charms
No way to deny she eats them alive
As she Frosts Tony the Tiger like Corn

She ain't nothing but a cereal killer
Finds pleasure in the Shredding of Wheat
Using Fruity Pebbles to go along with her evil  
As she spoons out her ***** deeds

She ain't nothing but a cereal killer
Easily making history out of Rice Krispy treats
What ever you do keep an eye on her Fruit Loops
That kind of crazy nobody needs

"I am all pieces that don't fit
But with you
I don't realize it."*

That's all I have ever wanted to be able to say



And meant

just a clown looking for laughs
around every corner, behind every desk
every iota of chance that i get
now's not the time to lay back and rest

every opportunity afforded me
into the laughter pool i'm diving deep
becoming captain of this wild crazy sea
i'll have them all laughing while slapping the knee

i'll even take time to learn how to sign
so those who are deaf can laugh at my lines
i'll hold back on the props for the sight of the blind
no one ever said that i wasn't kind

always in search of the highs and the lows
for the punch line to the latest joke
if you could be kind enough to let me know
if you have heard this one before...

The church of today is as bold as is strong
But by the grace of God could we be doing it wrong

Do we serve other's with softened hearts
Or with fists of pride mixed with hardened thoughts

We see the world as it is in its unrest
Having played our own parts in the reason this

Standing by watching in feigned righteous rage
Not giving love time in which to have its say

We see the world in the worst of fallen states
Yet fail to realize that we're much the same

We must stand apart as the hour grows late
But in God's righteous love and not man's sinful hate

For the world shows itself as it's always been
The problem with us is that we've fallen in

And how can we save those from the pits of Hell
If looking at us they see only themselves

The sloppy rain slips and slides down the fogged-up windows,
and this lets me know that I am not as small as I think I am.
In a city of three million plus, I feel like the soul of a nation,
even though I'm just a twenty-one year-old piece of plastic, drinking a hipster beer.

The waitress has frizzy hair and oily skin.
She's holding in late-night infomercials and missed ballet recitals, behind her words.
She looks at my luggage and asks where I came from or where I'm going,
and I tell her that the fun thing is that I have no idea where I'm going --
and that I still haven't decided where I've came from.

This city allows new-found anonymity, and I want that to be my cause.
With each passing glance, I know they don't see me, and, to me, that's the slumber-kissed throat-slit I've always dreamt of...

...the streets play music that I only hear -- and I know that's not fair, but I don't care.

And the homeless represent the bowels of the city.
And the businessmen are the ghost-filled engine.
And the middle class is the defense-mechanism I always wanted for Christmas.
And I am the empty delusion, desperately seeking a new pollution.