Tuesday, September 30, 2008


when i eat too much hummus it makes me vomit
lets grab the bong and play video games
i dont have time for community basketball
hey yall make the switch to digital

im watching you hippies on closed ciruit tv's
the drum circle has poison in it

ohh my vibe has a hole in it
ohh my tribe has a bone pile in it
ohh the skulls are on the pulpit

modern problems
sad modern doldrums
cant compete with tribal beats
on brown earthern streets

lets make a digital tribe
with monitors and bones to seal a vibe
keyboards help mash grains
cats eat the mouses and get lead solder in their brains

we have to come to an agreement
peyote and processors can mix
put new batteries in all the effects boxes
we are losing the audience rapidly
start soloing


oh silence
morning guitar solos trip me out
the neighbors are runnning a sad house

bark bark bark
three tied dogs bum me out
i miss london's fog
im tired of rolling my own

ive been reading alot, but cant remember it
im sick of it. i miss hate street in the sixties
my life would be more complete with ethnic drums and an incense closet
it would keep me closer to the streets

i fantasize about jesus sandals and total sun energy
boosting my mellanin and keeping the vibes pulsing

i never forget a face. but i try to forget all my bad trips
my cat takes cute quiet sips and provides me with milk tips
one. keep it cool. two watch that date. three chill out
and four. take time to contemplate

my cat gets on my nerves
i cant trust him either
when he drinks and drives he swerves
he is a bad pet. a bad pet
three spanks for him, and a bath to get him wet
sober him up. and make him go to bed
after such huge tripping. i need to rest my head

do you think the dead lose sleep?
that question makes my vibe plummet
it seems impossible to climb happiness' summit.


walk with wasp cops
total dudes on the boulevard screaming"gnar!"
method grab to infinite job hunt
wolf toot. wolf toot on you
wool suit covered in toots
piss on the snare drum
come to the drum circle
my friend triangle has burritos for us
if we believe in the mission style
we can travel with panic for miles.

acid smile
drips into triangle's beard
weird trip
weird trip
pass the bio diesel.
im sick

infinite solos
complete jamage
i need a vegan sandwich
my vibe is fading
fading into a slow tabla drone

i wish i were in a coma
wool shirt covered in salsa
my lifestyle is false
quick truce quick truce
searching for produce
i find my diploma
its covered in peace signs

grabbed all the dudes and we hiked
silent hikers on the precipice.
we had knife fights for days
no winners, we are all losers
meditate on that
meditate on that