(now the evening has come to a close

and I've had my last dance with you

so on to the empty streets with me

and it might be my last chance with you

so I might as well get it over with

the things I have to say

won't wait until another day)



Shut up

Whoooooo

Whoooooo

Whoooooo

Check this out



The Fabulous structure that's coaxed out of rubbles puddles splash

Mechanisms burn with beeping sounds that own their humans sold as

ruthless rounds of radio dust, Cranial mush, men get flattened out

radials spun on dusted combatant joust

after house of the dead heads fled, it's just the city moans

Malignant kid in it with sentence of sinister conferred

Magna-funk asbestos, the best at closed-quarters shit

Some will gravitate to the falcon and burn in wordlessness

hangin' with the herd is my joy

we buoy ordertake employ

When the farmers feed the murder rate ploy

we stow collected rebel factions in dirt and just follow

the citizens all love to be loved, we just follow

figure they ate the kids, homey

so fuck em save the adults

Kids are patriotic, robotic, operate catapults

And goose-step over innocence

Vagrant of Reaganomics phasing

Read the books that will burn at the barn raising

(Independent like a fuck) (Oh, Jesus)

You misinterpreted that Funcrush shit

So man, funcrush this

spectacular dawning of the heardthinner faction where distraction is bliss

Tyrell took a sabatical but back for the new semester (rockin that)

class action suit from the Laundromat of velour and pressed polyester

American history exo-bytes cypher with the tainted offspring, gimme nodos quick

you need to haul that mega-dumb style to the antique roadshow, bitch

the system bleeds for the radio angry, rock that wound aesthetic

the name of this routine is live at man you just don't get it

please try to compartmentalize my dick

with a little bit a that bitch hubris

when the ritalin starts to fade I might get lucid

every mindfuck i handout comes with a free month of internet access

and an updated year 2003 version of the mega clapper (you know the drill, clap off)

this is the third installment of a prequel that was never written right

filmed with that classic Brooklyn magic, without Lucasarts graphics



rendered cuddly comic relief creatures or terrible child actors

get off that jade elephant, you're stoned, and remember everything backwards