I'm the bashful black sheep

Demi-God complex in me

Defender of the weak

With the of those who would prefer an endless cycle of sleep to the 9 to 5 to 5 to 9 “High-Ho” Anthem’s beat

All hail, Queen of the Atlantian Embassy

Who marvels at a fork and pictures life on land a dream

(Geez)

Nearly 20 years spent walking on these so-called wondrous feet

Which cave and buckle from the weight of all my long-lost hopes and dreams

[Hook:]

Man, I don’t even trust my crooked, two, left cleats

To stagger-drag my body bag full of double-decker decaying meat

I think I’d rather Hand-stand at the plate than try to Grand Slam early

I mean we’re all doomed anyway

I just wanna stop to hear the birds sing

(Well, if I’d ever met a gallant man who wasn’t so damn handsome!)

Until the cameras on all his smartphones broke

Results from Chronic Gorgon Syndrome

Now listen closely, sweetie:

Take the red pill not the blue

Red will cure your symptoms, yup

But blue shows you the Stone-Cold Truth

Now I abide by the complex rules and views of the galaxy

Alien hardware wired in my brain to keep my mental sane

(Same)

Body, Balance, Buoyancy and a lump of coal in my throat

(Insane)

Never have you met a god as feverishly giving

And you never will, until you swallow your pride

And get in the fucking boat

Now Stomach this and swallow it

I gargle acid like the grateful wish they were dead

Stop, spin, stand, and spit it

Can you swim across the oceans in your head?

Do I look like the kind of captain with whom you’d rather break your bread?

Or can I feed you to the crocodiles to get this metronome-ticking out of my fucking head?

[Hook]

Hey Mom, I need you!

Can you riddle me a palindrome?

Echo “X Marks the Spot” into my cranial dome

Verse, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, outro

With a little something simple for the illiterates to bump to

No, it never propagates if I set a gap or prevention

These palindromes are standard

(Ma is as selfless as I am!)

But man, who the fuck ARE you?!

Bumpin ghastly in a home-made the booth

When the other-worldly smoke settles

I guess you’d call me SpookyTooth

I’ve got a verbose use of slander

Here to lift your spirits high

And then I’ll shake you to Casper

Friendly ghost

Holy Smokes

Put your green love in paper boat

With the power of the sun

Clasped between my shaking negro hands

Inhale to

(Calm the nerves)

Exhale to

(Call the birds)

Inhale to catch your dried-up dreams

Exhale and let them soak

They say I sound New York-ish like

“So I heard y’all wanna float?”