Monday, December 13, 2004

The Good Ship Bellyflop

It ain't no joke, bia-iatch! The end is here and i'm gonna take it all in.
You best believe we a playin at the party. And it's gonna be the ride of your life.
I'm gonna go out obnoxious as Jack Tripper on Robitussin.
I ain't leaving nothing to fate. I am an eater-of-worlds; the underbelly-of-anarchy.
I been watching the cards get placed so neatly, like little chinese-huts,
by Ozymandias wanna-be's who think it's all gonna last forever.
Well here's the news, Wal-Mart Shoppers...
the babel-towers are wavin in the wind & they're graffitti'd in crosshairs.
"I didn't do it, I just knew it".
The dinosaurs have officially failed to evolve to their ever-changing environment
and now history's rolling snakeyes, aiming for the delete-button.
Ain't nothing you can do now but pillage-or-be-pillaged.
Strap on your Road-Warrior-s&m-gear, build a make-shift-hot-rod out of tin and John Deer parts, and violently butt-rape the person nearest you.
It's ok. Nobody cares anymore.
All that money you been prayin for...you just won the lottery,
now you own a big-pile-of-paper that you're running out of room for
(canned-foods never tasted so damn fresh).
So fuck it. Do all the things you promised yourself as a child you'd do.
Being realistic has only gotten you so far, and now reality has become unrealistic.
"Swim, motherfucker, Swim," as the great Angelo Moore already tried to tell you.
It's ok if you think it's a stupid dance...at least it's yours,
and look how silly everybody else looks.
They're doing the "Strokin'" line-dance, for Christ's-sake.
I tried having faith in you bastards, now i'm just gonna tell you what to do.
Don't push me in the tar pit, and try to tell me it's a hot-tub, stupid human.