| Every minute people die and
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| Every other minute people are born
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| How did you spend that minute and
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| What was your involvement in either or?
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| There’s secret wars
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| Radioactive fallout
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| Poison seeps in your pores
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| So keep indoors
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| I would give you more details
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| But I really have to be on my way
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| Go ahead and run
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| With your CD player as your escape pod
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| Your unfaithful god is your paycheck from your day job
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| But life spits on your eyes
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| Of you fleeing TV-land's compost heap
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| Be the apex of chaos
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| Have safe sex with stray dogs
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| Until you age fully any skin cream
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| Will turn a Cindi Lauper into a Cindy Crawford
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| But won’t tell you could be eaten alive
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| At any city block or dive by mosberg
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| Isn’t self-pity awkward when your inner voice is a songbird
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| Muffled in your beliefs are incomplete crossword puzzles
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| And your self conscious aquifer’s been drained to a water puddle
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| I would love to sit and chat, but I got to be on my way
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| Sorry I don’t have the time to shoot the breeze or chew the fat or choose the
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| fruits up in the trees and I lose track
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| You want a bright future to be pitch black, so I got to be on my way
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| I’m sorry there’s no time allotted for your hijinks
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| So you should be fly-swatted at least that’s what I think
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| Go ahead and spend but the dollar bill is nature’s suicide note
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| Seek refuge at late hours in the Mayflowers
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| Like goin' from bottled cans and holograms to cities full of Robocops who bleed
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| soda pop
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| The good beauty and is why (??) love is a photo op and LA’s patron saint is a
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| coke rock
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| Even the stars in the penthouse become sparse when I do another head count
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| But it’s a good day to die and I’ve been diggin' a ditch
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| So I wave goodbye to what didn’t exist
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| With demoralizing the democratic demi-gods I get a pedagogue
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| And dog fights all in my steady job its to break your fault line
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| When its all dark and call a ball or strike in the ball park
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| You forgot a small part, the reverend signed with the swine therapists in the
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| asylum
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| You would be embarrassed if I died young
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| Maybe because you felt that Meredith was a shy nun
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| And you just took credit for which when she was high strung
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| But you didn’t know from terrorists she’d buy guns
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| When you knew too much she threw you off the terrace when you tried to run
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| Luckily a cypher full of whack MCs broke your fall
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| Now you cherish the rise of the sun after that close call
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| And cherish what I said most of all
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| I would love to sit and chat but I’ve got to be on my way
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| I’m sorry I don’t have the time to shoot your breeze or chew the fat or choose
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| the fruits up in the trees and I lose track
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| I want a bright future to be pitch black so I’ve got to be on my way
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| I’m sorry sir there’s no time allotted, therefore I had to fly swat it
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| I’ve got it, Driver’s fiber optic is really a fine tuned instrument
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| Implement several intimate moments tween you and your loved one
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| Thugs come from far or near, all with their scars, then leave tears
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| Comin' down their cheekbone, you seek the clones
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| What about speak in the zone, that is unbelievable
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| And California needa get a beach comb
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| To find the edible tidbits and little bytes and gigabytes of information
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| A megabyte a betcha byte a bigga bite when you come here
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| But I’ll stretch your life out in a long time sequence, long term
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| Strong germ, that’s what I am
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| Analyzing every petri dish
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| You know that I’m so secretive
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| So just. |
| shh shh. |
| keep in on the hush hush |