Why don’t they tell you on the package
You have to sift thru all the wreckage
Today we dine
On the dross that Mephistopheles chucked in his car
They kill wild horses
on the hoof , or when they’re chasing a truck
they kill wild horses
and if they had a choice they’d lay an egg like a duck
Ol Mephistopheles had troubles of his own
when his cat ran out on him he totally froze
Guns ablaze, he came out swingin doubling in size
every 15 minutes, like yeast on the rise
When i met you you had no shoes
I took your socks so you had nothin to lose
Gave you corn plasters as you were a wreck
Toe-to-toe jammin’ like Greg-o-ry Peck
I’m a sole man believe me I aint no heel
Runnin with devil never did me no good
Goes to show the power of a single banana peel
When your shoes are yay high in North Carolina
Certain people will take heed
Archin like an alley cat spyin a panther
you know both of dems a dyin’ breed (and dey knowz it)
Gran’s Remedy aint no cure for the devil roosted ‘neath my shins
Doctor Podra, please please can’t you see the state that i’m in
Well when a sleep-walkin cheetah wakes up,
puts out his butt and decides enough is enough
everybody gotta make their own minds up
cos they’re free as feet footloose and fucked up!
killer queen less than anywhere else
ended up road kill tissues and flowers on her grave
and algae barnacled scrapings on the luxury yacht
spilt and bled into the mediterrainan like so much dead sea
spilt and split like random unstable fake atoms
neutron stars in a black sea of dreams
a milky paste of self similar fizzing frenetic swizzle sticks
stirring the pot with a whiz-wand that would slice a banana like a knife thru butter
exactly like a hot knife thru butter
a sizzling hot knife thu butter
an electrified heated butter knife thru melted butter
if the glove don’t fit you must put down the sizzling electric butter knife
I got some newfangled pastry, puffy as a ball
with some prime granny smiths on top of it all
an then some chillin blueberries heated warm to the cool
an some hokey pokey icecream to sweat off the pool
(about an hour ago · Like · 1 · Peter Morgan)
hokey pokey (37 minutes ago · Like – Steve McCabe)
more booty than you’d get in the pokey, even wit more blueberry than
haile salassie an the flakey crumb diggers
hum round like flies making dem big eyes while other niggas
die in da gunfights in da city of compton,
sure as snoop is westside
the reason they died is not a reason for pride
(21 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
delicious icecream hokey pokey its apt
its a whole lotta white with some chunks of black
well more like colored kids swirlin around
in this tipsy top world of hip hop sound… sound…sound
(17 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
you know you’re soakin in it, cool it, you’re still in charge
until the new boss takes over, name of marge
(15 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
deeshwashing liquid, i would never have guessed
piss of you old hag i came here for the test!
(13 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
i wanna see if my belly is sprouting a sprog
if so i’ll protect it from dingo and dog
and any other mongrel who might come along
trying to ply it it with bottle, needle or bong
(10 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
put your hand in the hand of the man who crossed
the keystone cops when they were keystone-nots
the city of brotherly love has come a long way
since general patton passed thru this way
(6 minutes ago · Like Steve McCabe)
city of sails is a city of snails
snail bait and switch is what i need
Rock a bye baby on the tree top
When the beats start the baby will rock
Rock rock rock
Soul of the part your souls on the hop
Me on the bottom and you on the top
A hippy hippy shake prompting legs akimbo
Nobody can win you’re frigid or you’re a bimbo
Lou says “Take your baby out on the street and by the morning she’s another hit and run”
Now that’s some poetry right there but I couldn’t do that because my baby’s second to none
Baby’s on fire, time to put the cat out, my baby takes the minute train
She works from none to five each day and then she takes it back again
Rock my baby in the bosom of Abraham, knife out ready to dispatch his child
Rock this baby in the garden of Eden
Snake-bellied shapeshifter lighting fires in the wild
Free the birds
Free all the birds
if they fly, walk or run they all have beaks and claws
none of them know the escape clause
Caged, nested, roosted they all have their place
The nightinggale sings in Berkeley Square
the laying bird plops out eggs onto the hay
the rooster crows like tomorrow is here
Free the birds
Once they have entered your world
they are uncanny members of your family
Shake sheep and sheafs
Beats beyond belief!
In the wigwam he’s the chief
Big sticks provide the backbeat
Twice on the tailpipe means
No way Jose now get outta those jeans
Slip in that back beat
Beats so good make me wanna tweet his prowess in a hollow
In a hallowed hall he can’t be beat!
He’s a rat-tat Tum-tiddly-um-tum
Goo-goo-ga-joob-beat mothers son
With a pair of sticks that make a Chinese national revert to a fork and spoon!
Shake sheep and sheafs
Give it the old one-two, for this house is bleak
Play that ol piano bar-style
In that knowing way without getting hostile
Punching out that rhythm like a pulsing pustule
Pumping like a heart accelerating corpuscles
beautiful swooping big bird weighing down the tree like a flying moa
not extinct but distinct and nearly senile
such it its wont and its plump belly
fired up with rotting flame tree leaves
crapping sterling seeds like they were weeds
all over the twitterverse
its a fiery ring in reverse
killing me softly then quietly
placing me in his private hearse
right next to the horse of Damiem Hirst
flogged to death i’ve never seen such a blue pointer
infested seawater shelling out peas like they were rainwater
copping peas, popping corn in the popping microwave sizzle-pan
you can catch ot as cats can if you can catch as cats can
no need to get catty, pointing out the fiery teaspoon arguments
all the argie bagie has surely become a moot point
fiscal deficit is neither here nor therewhen the postman lays a steaming brownie on your doorstoop
who are you gonna call, Dre, Jay-Z or Snoop?
are you in the Compton loop?
What steaming brownie troupe did you emanate from
high on crack and toting a machine gun
shooting blanks in the alley like a mod exile
thumbing my face with your finger killing me softly with your pesticide
killing me softly but surely with your pestilent petsicide
Oh well all kidding aside you will one day broadly kill us all with your virulent pesticide
Bleeding nastily like a huge weeping sore grumpily making its way to the fore
rotten to the core, seeping white cells like a dead jackdaw
so many people look at all the lonely people with the mustard and mayo right there at the door
pillish brain salad at the left with some salt and pepper, tell me if i’m being a bore
29 lie under amidst the stream
Elevated to less humdrum dreams
Suffocated by greed and negligence
Superimposed fake intelligence
No dead canary to warn them
No heroes in a cage
Gaseous clay an underground tombstone
A river runs thru it, septic and odorous
Specific warnings noted and ignored
Smoking guns still smoking on the floor
Poisons no more brought back home
Nor bread, bacon, love or ham on the bone
Yo yo yo it’s like a fantail farted in here
Lighting up the air with his one eyed stare
Lighting up the tree like a goddam Xmas tree
Lighting up the air like a captain of industry
Nothing to see here nothing to be
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort thee
Stay the course, stand your ground as the colossus of rhodes puts up another road block
Chock full of numbskull nuts , saving the best till last
On yer last legs the future is in your past
Teaching and screaming and learning the ropes
A waiter waits idly like a soap on a rope
He will never ever ever be pope
Where there’s hopeless beginnings there may be hope
The final solution is at the end of this rope
