| «you can’t look cool running across the street»
|
| And bottle broke, and the soap was left sink side
|
| Or the bartenders never pay attention
|
| Show and tell with a gag blindfold wrapped around the entire congregation
|
| Constraints. |
| «put another dime in the jukebox baby.»
|
| Pocket full of lightning wads and cat calls gush, gush
|
| Like, i’ve never died from thirst
|
| While preaching up the wrong tree
|
| Or slinking through the fence through the posts because you can fit
|
| Forty-two, seventy-one, non-zero
|
| Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure
|
| My light bulb’s gone grey. |
| something, something
|
| Most change since stuffing
|
| My light bulb’s gone grey. |
| something, something
|
| Most improved since stuffing
|
| A leaf in the twilight looks like a million bucks
|
| Like hot pink paint you couldn’t buy before synthetics
|
| To sit under the first autumn tree in the park
|
| And watch a tee-ball practice just before dark
|
| Sunset is an all day process
|
| One, two, three, now here’s the meat:
|
| I can’t count forty fat women in spandex power walking circles around me
|
| As i stare at a deserted baseball field
|
| Writing a rap in red pen on the back of a printed e-mail folded twice
|
| Hot, dog |