Lyrics Fur Balls - Mark Kozelek, Ben Boye, Jim White

Fur Balls

Oh, oh, oh, the rain pours
The cat coughed up one of her fur balls
And I cleaned it up and ten minutes later she was snoring
And the rain kept pouring and pouring
Tapping on my roof like fingertips on the face of a banjo
There’s a crack in the seal of my window
Two decades in a hundred year old building will show its wear and tear
Many have come and gone but I won’t go
Not yet, no no, no no no
This is my haiku of the day:
«I didn’t do much
At home I laid in my bed
In my bed I stayed»
Yeah, the cat threw up one of her fur balls
I thought you wondered what us rock stars did on our days off
Does it upset you that we clean up fur balls?
Are you mad that I laid in bed all day scratching my balls?
If you’re upset, please don’t write things on the restroom walls
It’s depressing enough in the restroom stalls
Don’t write ugly things on the walls, it ain’t good for you
Don’t write hateful things on the walls
Well all the bitches are whining and whining
Me and the black ocean are shining
When I talk, a lot get spoke
We don’t need to, me and the black ocean
I just told you, we don’t need to
For we are shining, shining, shining…
Nature’s leisure, your brain is picturing your tongue on a clear
A sweet mouth on your dick, everyone in this world are hypocrites
We’re all half bloods and we’re all half crips
Dirty sluts, your mind in the gutter
Your brain has a picture of you jerking off on Earth
We’re all just searching and we’re all full of shit
We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
The rain tonight is splattering on my roof like
A thousand drops of a hundred years' worth of leftover chicken curry
She smiled and up to my right on the bookcase
Is William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury
Whoo!
Whoo!
Whoo!
Damn you all, damn you
You will, will you?
You will, will you?
You think you will?
The bones of glass crack
Flapping slow and heavy, all it is
What’s your name, little girl?
What’s your name, little girl?
A woman is either a lady or not
Something no longer heard in a lacker’s mouth
I will sweep past your door, door, door
I was not who was not who was not who
After a while the laughter ran out
What did you do today?
Did you love or did you hate?
Did you bury their dead body or were they cremated?
And when they died, did you write beautiful words for them?
I know you did, I know you did
Cause if you didn’t, what is you is?
What is you if you got no words for the dead?
I got words for the dead and so do you
You got words for the dead
Cause if you don’t, then what is you is?
So mind you mind you mind you mind you mind you Benjy
Not Quentin or Dalton or Jason III or Dilsey
He 33, he ain’t equipped mentally or emotionally
And he cry and he cry and he cry like a baby
It’s a cry that we all cry deep inside
When somebody does us wrong or injures our little baby pride
Men don’t let other men know that they are crying
Men want the other man to think he is high flying
And I know we are flying high brother, for we are shining
We both know when the other is crying, for we are shining
Am I sinking or am I climbing?
A little of both as we all are, or we’d be lying
Well for our attention the bitches are pining
Where you at, black?
Are you there, my brother?
Something tells me you are my brother from another mother
I’m down here in New Orleans, I’m here in New Orleans
And where the fuck are you?
I know where you are, for we are shining
You’re driving around in your Mercedes, driving the ladies crazy
And I’m sleeping in a lot late lately
Fighting against the temptation to be lazy
And that’s it