The water retention in the bogged down pickled ear

Outweighs the REM in one-eyed pistoleers

Oscillating lung sacs, cheek-pinching fun facts

Coloring the grosses in the fiscal year

I've never been a shoe-in just the gluten in the monkey bread

Sucked up in the union turn my dues in with the monthly pledge

Breaking the Rosetta Stone, shouting on the megaphone

I turn a burning bush into a monkey hedge

They're looking for a minion of idle hands to instruct

And I'm the battery-powered deflowered nimbus

Set aside my prized glum in gentrified fiefdom

I street perform in peak form with a tin cup

Please lift the sanctions that demonize the yellow cake

On your tongue the water-gun is pointed at your elbow brace

Baby safe the bumper cars, broadcast the color bars

As I tie you to the railroad stakes



When I overrule all of the nutritional facts

I can scale walls

Get your shit flushed when I bit-crush the Britannica

And unveil drawls

When I overrule all of the nutritional facts

I can scale walls

Get your shit flushed when I bit-crush the Britannica

And unveil drawls

They wanted a Moulin Rouge and some bullion cubes

But we jettisoned all that by the megaton

Now they've got their Oolong brews and their futon stools

And a reticent sun



So I'm turning on the waterworks

Cutting through the modern murk

Knee-deep in a pot of dirt

To render handfuls of sky

Turning on the water works

Shunned where founding fathers lurk

Knee-deep in a pot of dirt

To render handfuls of sky

Cowering in firefights

Stepping over fly-by-nights

Contrary to prior plights

I render handfuls of sky



The mounting momentum of the bubbling electorate

Favors neo-Nazism in the house pet chorus

Throw the medicine ball, divvy up the windfall

Fit the trophy wife for the wet corset

I go from a hug to an open-handed cartwheel

That's how I vivisect the dinner guest at the arms deal

Breathing with a suck slurp, I scrutinize the bloodwork

Of the green thinkers and no cars yield

Pointing out all the freckles on the darkroom negs

To carbon date a marketplace full of bootlegs

Bottle zygote nog, for all the roadhogs

Matching in, white, blue, red

You cannot triangulate the angles of this paragon

You are not a G at all, you work at a hair salon

When you raise the hot comb, I will move to Stockholm

Till the soil to put a parish on

When I do away with questionable motherfuckers

I can outsource sorcery



They wanted a Moulin Rouge and some bullion cubes

But we jettisoned all that by the megaton

Now they've got their Oolong brews and their MoveOn dot orgs



(Hey, go!) x3



So I'm turning on the waterworks

Cutting through the modern murk

Knee-deep in a pot of dirt

To render handfuls of sky

Turning on the water works

Shunned where founding fathers lurk

Knee-deep in a pot of dirt

To render handfuls of sky

Cowering in firefights

Stepping over fly-by-nights

Contrary to prior plights

I render handfuls of sky