THE WALRUS

i'm bish bashing a wallaby into a funny stance
wanna mack on honeys with me?
fill our fun skulls with all sorts of images & the smells
yr thinking abt when gobbling down that neon ice cream
brain colors confusing brain colors with brain colors
bring me something made of clown blood
some changing geyser a machine can control
sort of like a basketball that strengthens when you touch it
of course, i will never be michael jordan, my success won't become
tangible ever ever ever ever ever ever in my life
substance
crashing into ether
when i think too much
you know who i am
hear how i hear
how how i hear how
i hear how you hear how
hear how
in the ugly sun
the massive thermometer is leaking mercury all up on us
look in our guts
of course they are deformed
a science experiment displaying a
just-broken world
mare, mare, mare, let me sing you a song:
blinders give us cancer
off-roads give us cancer
who records give us cancer
the oxford english dictionary gives us cancer
fuck
i forgot the words even though
i'm the one making them up
i want crash landings to become the human norm
to twitch a crashing gate so it's a living thing
be somebody should become
be some thing inanimate
that should be our cry
a walrus bellowing could bellow the hell out of it,
"this song sounds like rotting fucking lives,"
it might bellow,
"day after day i sing it & still a terrible smell
is engulfing my life!
this song sounds like rotting fucking lives!
the reason i blamed the snake in the first place is so a
king could exist at all!
or is he more comparable to a drug dealer?
a rain tent folded right?
or is he like the road?
their explanation
knowing
i've never immediately wanted
another meatball sandwich,"