
Date of issue: 20.09.2004
Song language: English
Buckethead |
He didn’t like to jostle in the light |
Finding it much soother in the night |
With his face as pale as pancakes |
And his posture in rebellion with his height |
He was raised to respect Father he was loving to his Ma |
Being kind to all the children and the animals he saw |
In his youth he looked at Jacko with gleaming admiration |
Moonwalking through the gardens of his Disneyland Vacation |
Then he took a pallid mask and he glued it to his face |
And it gave him the temerity to join the human race |
He stood like great Ulysses with guitar in his hand |
Pledging to deflate the cynical that plague the glory land |
Buckethead |
And the people came to know him as a man of noble cause |
Ignoring eccentricities and interactive flaws |
The ones that knew him best were the ones that |
Called him kind |
Clueless to the depth of his complicated mind |
But when he takes a pallid mask and he glues it to his face |
It gives him the temerity to join the human race |
Standing up like great Ulysses with |
Guitar in his hand |
Pledging to deflate the cynical |
That plague the glory land |
Buckethead |