| Oh, oh, oh, the rain pours
|
| The cat coughed up one of her fur balls
|
| And I cleaned it up and ten minutes later she was snoring
|
| And the rain kept pouring and pouring
|
| Tapping on my roof like fingertips on the face of a banjo
|
| There’s a crack in the seal of my window
|
| Two decades in a hundred year old building will show its wear and tear
|
| Many have come and gone but I won’t go
|
| Not yet, no no, no no no
|
| This is my haiku of the day:
|
| «I didn’t do much
|
| At home I laid in my bed
|
| In my bed I stayed»
|
| Yeah, the cat threw up one of her fur balls
|
| I thought you wondered what us rock stars did on our days off
|
| Does it upset you that we clean up fur balls?
|
| Are you mad that I laid in bed all day scratching my balls?
|
| If you’re upset, please don’t write things on the restroom walls
|
| It’s depressing enough in the restroom stalls
|
| Don’t write ugly things on the walls, it ain’t good for you
|
| Don’t write hateful things on the walls
|
| Well all the bitches are whining and whining
|
| Me and the black ocean are shining
|
| When I talk, a lot get spoke
|
| We don’t need to, me and the black ocean
|
| I just told you, we don’t need to
|
| For we are shining, shining, shining…
|
| Nature’s leisure, your brain is picturing your tongue on a clear
|
| A sweet mouth on your dick, everyone in this world are hypocrites
|
| We’re all half bloods and we’re all half crips
|
| Dirty sluts, your mind in the gutter
|
| Your brain has a picture of you jerking off on Earth
|
| We’re all just searching and we’re all full of shit
|
| We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
|
| We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
|
| We’re all just searching, baby, and we’re all full of shit
|
| The rain tonight is splattering on my roof like
|
| A thousand drops of a hundred years' worth of leftover chicken curry
|
| She smiled and up to my right on the bookcase
|
| Is William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury
|
| Whoo! |
| Whoo! |
| Whoo! |
| Damn you all, damn you
|
| You will, will you? |
| You will, will you?
|
| You think you will? |
| The bones of glass crack
|
| Flapping slow and heavy, all it is
|
| What’s your name, little girl? |
| What’s your name, little girl?
|
| A woman is either a lady or not
|
| Something no longer heard in a lacker’s mouth
|
| I will sweep past your door, door, door
|
| I was not who was not who was not who
|
| After a while the laughter ran out
|
| What did you do today?
|
| Did you love or did you hate?
|
| Did you bury their dead body or were they cremated?
|
| And when they died, did you write beautiful words for them?
|
| I know you did, I know you did
|
| Cause if you didn’t, what is you is?
|
| What is you if you got no words for the dead?
|
| I got words for the dead and so do you
|
| You got words for the dead
|
| Cause if you don’t, then what is you is?
|
| So mind you mind you mind you mind you mind you Benjy
|
| Not Quentin or Dalton or Jason III or Dilsey
|
| He 33, he ain’t equipped mentally or emotionally
|
| And he cry and he cry and he cry like a baby
|
| It’s a cry that we all cry deep inside
|
| When somebody does us wrong or injures our little baby pride
|
| Men don’t let other men know that they are crying
|
| Men want the other man to think he is high flying
|
| And I know we are flying high brother, for we are shining
|
| We both know when the other is crying, for we are shining
|
| Am I sinking or am I climbing?
|
| A little of both as we all are, or we’d be lying
|
| Well for our attention the bitches are pining
|
| Where you at, black?
|
| Are you there, my brother?
|
| Something tells me you are my brother from another mother
|
| I’m down here in New Orleans, I’m here in New Orleans
|
| And where the fuck are you?
|
| I know where you are, for we are shining
|
| You’re driving around in your Mercedes, driving the ladies crazy
|
| And I’m sleeping in a lot late lately
|
| Fighting against the temptation to be lazy
|
| And that’s it |