[an alone song]
i gotta go buy some alcohol
i don't have control over myself
my mom is leavin the yard right now
that's steve zissou
my mom is going to the cardiologist
i dont wanna die with my hands tied in God's mouth
i never made a good choice but i find my self leaning towards the end of the road
and im gonna write some stuff, im gonna write a stream of control of myself
its a song and its a meaningful election
it needs to go back to wherever it was born
im a folk man, im a fool for the plan that no one ever pretended was real
it's gotta find out where the Dog is born and where it dies . . .
my life is just a Life.
Byebye.
Stream of Con Trol of My Self
Hello, i been drinkin vodka this late morning stage, because my mom is at the Cardiologist, so that being said, I think I've done some things, and I just wanted to, I had wanted to maybe type a stream of consciousness uh thing. Just a words vomits, but it's a lot easier if I just say it or sing it.
And so I'm gonna go. I'm gonna do a 2 minute stream of consciousness poetry slam. Okay, it's almost at a minute. I'll go to 3 minutes. I hope you can handle it, Ha . . . . [ n d l e ]
O, my face is just a rhyme on the super human time that comes down from the next level up.
He makes mistakes like me and he has my same name and face, but it makes a lot less sense than when the human race designs the polygraphic metamorphic singleton deck.
He washes it with his tongue and he makes the sluts all cum. Sorry about that. He made more mistakes, but he couldn't face the erasure of the 1989 world series.
She made her own mind out of clay and lime and pieces of steak.
She was great at looking for time beyond her eyes. Never look beyond your own navel.
It makes the universe seem like a craven morsel of flesh.
She made her mind inside her womb.
Everyone bloomed, because the world rained onto itself.
It made no sense, but that made no difference.
Watch it and Learn and do not discern the Lady
and do everything I say and do whatever I don't.
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