Klutz
Intro:
I am a man who uses the techniques of a bat to navigate…
[Verse]
Can’t motherf**k a motherf**ker
From the underfunded Klutz who never undercut the butcher
The pick-a-booger-at-your-wake is bumping “I’m your pusher”
Also at your wake, Juvenile Intruders at the gate
Brooding over waking history that bubbles from the blinking 12s of VCRs and Microwaves
Like time machines for shrinking elders, rifling through their recipe
Carrots, onions, celery, what unique amalgam of p**s and repugnant energy
Spun him out of the 70s, to b-line for dessert?
Fire-eater trying to keep it on the green side of the dirt
This is tea-time with the worst, geriatrics on decline of berserk
Back in my day we were three times more alert
Now I go through my old clothing trying to find nostalgic threads to sell
Walk away feeling like I should have never dressed myself
Sincerely I was never on the cutting edge, my hand was on the hilt
You’re free to build with the other end
Shriek into the vacuum if in spite of your accomplishments
You wake up feeling empty like Houdini’s grave probably is
Volley with the quintessential digital ager, I’m offended by everything
My opinions come in manger, oh boy
Depreciating since they drove me off the lot, still into ghost stories and pot and the classic coconut bra
Procedural crime drama shows with holes in the plot, and reminding clones there’s more to coping than a nose full of snot
Ah, old pros throw ‘bows to the 808, you couldn’t throw a rope over a baby gate
Bishop to queen 4 in damn Daniels under ram skulls
Plan for cloudy with a chance of anvils
Fever dreams of padded cells and jagged pills in frozen pipes
Socialites from pageant hell with plastic smiles and robot eyes
I’m hoping you all grow into the sentience you assume
As your moment of self-reflection is a moment for me too
Look, with the steel chair, sure to serve the veal rare, brush up your evasion and basic tactical field care
I was on that constant futile rage before the internet
I been ignored for longer than you’ve been interested
The posse promise you nobody feels threatened by a scarecrow covered in crows who feel welcomed
That’s like hellions thinking hell is just ok but needs some polish
It helps to know intimidation’s all about the optics
Come duck a bounty, it’s a hoot, Suffolk County it’s a zoo, puppy chow and b**ches brew
It’s not exactly chicken soup, it’s heavy-lifters lifting, it’s ginseng on his whistling
It’s we don’t find the flippancy convincing, 2 for flinching, older yeller
Never knew a no-kill shelter in his doggie days
Now I draw my neighbors over Kouign-amanns and coffee stains
A walled and whirling urchin, more observant than audacious
I document the great unwashed and curse in Lithuanian
For a gallery of grifters channeling Sid’s action figures grafted with his little sister’s after markers glue and scissors
It’s trippy, the truth and fiction moving to a center
Maybe it’s weirder they’ve never been photographed together
Sometimes the stomach disappears from under a retreating lens
And patterns of a need to please abusive folk reveal themselves
I’m peeling back the layers, I’m sneaking past the lasers
I’m a lover, I’m a fighter, I’m a seed to blackened acres
The dogs I think are following me home are out to kill me
Your music makes a motherf**ker wanna move to Elm Street
Rejection of the spirit by the body at your service, if you mess-up every friendship come get swept up in the current
Here, wheels fall off of cars when they see him, seas part, green trees march out of Eden
I’m known to eat the heart and keep the archery uneven, are you starting to be part of the kinesis?
Outro:
Got me on some other sh*t
Got me on some other sh*t
Got me on some other sh*t
