#mumps etc

Waterlines by Why? from Mumps, Etc. (2012)

I'm something unheard and bound under harbor sound, but my words are heard loud when I'm on the mound. And with the vocal duress of a lone thrush in a bush, that's a quote from a book of my local press push.

The doctor of ramble and word scramble, from the land of proctor and gamble and cop scandals. Rocking soccer socks in sandals like yeah bro, Talking crude a tad too verbose and way too close.

I'm colder than most, older than the youth. Always under oath and sober in the booth. One man's filth is another man's truth. Big mouth filled with one long tooth.

Do you all? When you find yourselves in your late twenties, wanna make money. Do you all? When you find yourselves with three tens you'd gladly ante on the wind.

The crucibles proof and fire fused, poof, with the liars view under my skirt up. Dude, You wanna peruse the tattoos you heard word of? Any excuse I can use to move my shirt off. Girls used the fawn over my locks to kill. Now the girls are gone and I'm on minoxidil. I'm in decline but women like be jocking still cause I rhyme with skill and talk so chill and youthful. Bird dog in the mating yard to be truthful. Quake 89 trading cards with me tubes so three white felt gloves are crucial. Yes the one left one right one neutral.

Do you all? When you find yourselves on stage running for fame wanting. Do you all? When you find yourselves well known, you learn you're only more alone.

I can't sleep in rental cars or airlines, yo and so I keep a deck of cards for down time. The road and other solo christmas and valentines. No it's not the hobo's wish list i had in mind. Then when I'm free off a mission I'm sorta like filled with ennui, indecision, and more strife. Life long bouts with depression, lone fights. Down in the town unheaven, I'm fine in time, though. Standing with the will to start a bike up hill with pride. Ringing the bell and riding straight outta hell. But waterlines fine like ink from porcupine's quils are etched beneath my skull, but that's all.

Do you all? When you find yourselves in the late morning come awake yearning? Do you all? When you find yourselves amongst friends attempt to blend in with the men?

Strawberries by Why? from Mumps, Etc. (2012)

Strawberries on your birthday, Shirley The shit I said to hotel managers haunts me Pall bearers of the first string ready Discretely gather in the second floor hallway And I am not okay boys

Itching like an intern with a sunburn For what a stone unturned covers I don't wear rubbers and I don't wear sunscreen I want to heat my hide, not hide under something And I am not okay boys

You mom, she sits while her hair is in curlers Smokes weed and listens to that Garrison Keiler That's how I'll live when I quit my rap career Let her laughter pass the rafters and go out into the atmosphere

Jonathan’s Hope by Why? from Mumps, Etc. (2012)

When I got better from the mumps Yes, my swollen nut and neck shrunk But, though subtle, I can smell distinctly Some sick and swollen stink, still to this day stays with me And irked as some dumb tart from Illinois In a shirt that says "I heart Michigan boys" But it's oy, still steel as a goy's gut Oh so concealed in the crease but Slow pitching like a Vatican priest to be Pope -- what? Dope. So every morning wake up with hope And at night fall asleep at the end of your rope Alone pretending to cope

As ill as I am, I am But with all that's well I'll yell Good god, what the hell, what the fuck A white dove on the hood of a two-ton truck

It took me 30 years to learn my patterns Just for shit to turn weird in my return to Saturn I feel the freezing creep of greedy sleep sneaking in again I'm dangling Oh I don't have to pull a shitty fortune from dessert Like the piss poor son of a serf to know what I'm worth I know what I'm deserved of A freaking dirty dove dead And a bag of bread from a sellout club But will you spell out love in the lashes life serves up? Or am I just a red bump in the rash of cash worship? Lord. Huh? Whats up?

As ill as I am, I am But with all that's well I'll yell Good god, what the hell, what the fuck A white dove on the hood of a two-ton truck

Brief is the life of that bird Who brings your secrets, your deepest beefs and desires Through it's beak in a minor squeak to be heard Its meaning complete no need for words It might not last more than a week And if this my final trip it be Lord take me quick, let me see ye And please heed the needs of my family

As ill as I am, I am But with all that's well I'll yell Good god, what the hell, what the fuck A white dove on the hood of a two-ton truck

With mangled fingers I play it and say it Plain in my octaves with all that I've got And for all that I'll not have And cursing back to the big bang in slang they sang

I'm older than death Vulgar with unfresh breath