Whatever it takes to get you
there and back again
this would be a good place
for a marsupial pouch
weird psychotic life dragging groceries
up a hill called California
Out here on the Barbary Coast
poor slender bicep
with personal trainer
just want definition
not bulk
well defined
weaker than baby hamsters
a gallon of milk,
a loaf of bread,
a dozen eggs.
Plastic handles that cut off the circulation
to the fingertips
and subsequently
the brain
or... 'brams mang!'
voiced in the Puerto Rican dialect
of Louie, my friend
From over 30 summers ago
He who is also very fond of the idea
Of being directly descendant
from a tribe of Indians
somewhere in the Bronx,
but nowhere just somewhere
a magic tribe
Of round, cuddly, curly headed Louies
All smoking peace pipes filled with Avenue A skittley-doo-dop and pineapple flavored
malt liqours
they built the Brooklyn bridge
all the high-rises on 5th avenue
Hell, man Wall Street woulda been
Fence Street
and the majorly important section
of the Jersey tunnel
Where the money flows in and out
Of the sacred burial grounds
Known as Manhattoes
Then... alla the sudden, they went assholic
and disappeared back into the Bronx
After they sent Louie to the store
For a forty
BUT! they wasn't spoiled Bratz *ahem*...
Up walks Johnny Toast
long blond stinky ass dreadlocks
his parents own a Mansion and a yacht
he just walks into the park to shoot dope
all summer long
Toast is burnt
Louie dreams of being Toast
and I dream of helping some of those
'Up-the-Hudson' types
into the rooms and out of their clothes.... That's the side of the bun
my bread gets buttered on....
Like I said earlier,
whatever it takes to get you there
and back again
there and back again
this would be a good place
for a marsupial pouch
weird psychotic life dragging groceries
up a hill called California
Out here on the Barbary Coast
poor slender bicep
with personal trainer
just want definition
not bulk
well defined
weaker than baby hamsters
a gallon of milk,
a loaf of bread,
a dozen eggs.
Plastic handles that cut off the circulation
to the fingertips
and subsequently
the brain
or... 'brams mang!'
voiced in the Puerto Rican dialect
of Louie, my friend
From over 30 summers ago
He who is also very fond of the idea
Of being directly descendant
from a tribe of Indians
somewhere in the Bronx,
but nowhere just somewhere
a magic tribe
Of round, cuddly, curly headed Louies
All smoking peace pipes filled with Avenue A skittley-doo-dop and pineapple flavored
malt liqours
they built the Brooklyn bridge
all the high-rises on 5th avenue
Hell, man Wall Street woulda been
Fence Street
and the majorly important section
of the Jersey tunnel
Where the money flows in and out
Of the sacred burial grounds
Known as Manhattoes
Then... alla the sudden, they went assholic
and disappeared back into the Bronx
After they sent Louie to the store
For a forty
BUT! they wasn't spoiled Bratz *ahem*...
Up walks Johnny Toast
long blond stinky ass dreadlocks
his parents own a Mansion and a yacht
he just walks into the park to shoot dope
all summer long
Toast is burnt
Louie dreams of being Toast
and I dream of helping some of those
'Up-the-Hudson' types
into the rooms and out of their clothes.... That's the side of the bun
my bread gets buttered on....
Like I said earlier,
whatever it takes to get you there
and back again
Comments