I thought I would show you what I was talking about,
So, here it is kid….
You don’t want it all,
But, you don’t want it all,
To pass you by,
bye-bye.
Music is not about telling everyone else how you feel.
Music is about helping everyone else feel the way you feel.
Have you no sense of intimacy?
Music is about helping everyone feel what you are saying.
Do you remember when,
You asked me why all the Crayon’s,
In the Crayon box,
Looked the same as you?
After all,
Camouflage is a weird concept in space.
After all,
I’m just a person trying to express myself.
Why would you want to step on that?
Do you ever look outside of your self?
Do you ever look outside yourself?
It’s not that I’m the sickest puppy,
In the litter.
How do I know?
I looked in your blindspot.
What happens when you wait,
Until someone can’t wait,
To go to the bathroom?
Shit happens.
What if there was so much noise,
That nobody could hear my song?
Sometimes noise is a good camouflage.
Sometimes it is not.
I’m not that interested in how you fit into the game…
Rather, that you are a game piece.
Where do all those anarchists go?
That bookstore on South Street?
Oh, yes,
The Wooden Shoe.
Can you tell a Fox,
He swells like his own hole?
Ask Rupert Murdoch.
Have you no sense,
Of intimacy?
It’s funny,
When you try to stop,
A laughing-box from laughing.
Kleenex,
Or, tissue,
Who cares?
Will God bless you?
Doy you,
Yourself,
Know a genius,
When you look one,
In the I?
There are only so many people,
That hold a guitar…
Or, magnifying glass.
Chasing the string of a balloon.
There aren’t that many fish,
That can swim in the sea.
Shall I throw you back?
