Lyrics:
Ding-dong, king of all things wrong
Swinging through the jungle gym, something else’s skin on
Melted butter, king prawn, drinking from the dog’s bowl
Doobie at the dog park, ninja at the log roll
Rowlf on keys, house on a haunted hill
Go a couple rounds in the ball pit,
Trawling where the map is black, attracted to the lawlessness
Back and forth and forth and back, I’m tracking y'all marauders in
Black flag flier, rag tag attire, snack bag
Cat dad, stay away from crack and all that jazz
Hair like crabgrass, spine made of butter
Got my nose from my mother, my eyes change colors
The energy that can not be contained by paint by numbers
Can not be restrained with basic nails and lumber
I get the shutters shaking, the fun is taking power from the nobles
And returning home, to share with other powerball hopefuls
I’m on the front porch about-facing bannermen
Manners of the mad as hell who also takes animals in
Dirty birds, bad dogs, trash cats, lab chimps
Hanging trespassers by the ankles, thanks, management
Inventor of the artificial rose
Squirting water from the pocket up the party-goers nose
Fly inside a ice cube, disappearing pen ink
Cobras in the mixed nuts, “this guy’s thought of everything”
There’s more of everything, well, there’s less rescuing
Everything else in abundance, get you a second comeuppance
All at the press of a button, something to quell the gumption
Y’all headed for self-destruction, end of discussion
Get well, or welcome to utterly unwelcome
The Norman Rockwell that went Orwellian in seconds
Now the normals need a network of lenses with motion sensors
And hold they camera phones like loaded weapons, oh heavens
Out here where it’s out there
My head up in the clouds, how's the weather down there?
Foul air filtered through a crew neck pulled up
Thousandaires hanging out a full length school bus
On a full tank, fools like, “who the fuck?” me the fuck
People throwing TVs, others speak in tongues, freaky stuff
Apricot foot peel booties on
Oatmeal hair mask, breakfast-scented moonwalk
Oatmeal Air Max, float across the catwalk in rare form
Pageant wave mistaken for a bear attack
Leaving tacks on the chair and floor
So there’s that
I could throw a playing card that land between your praying hands
matter fact open em up, holy fuck, pay the man
germansingergirl
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
prguitarman