cunabear - mookie lyrics
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 emb-ssy
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 d-mn 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 f-cking 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 f-cking 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 f-ck 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?”
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