I know the man in the chair

By his eyes

And the course of the road

And the cause of his numbers,

I know very odd, very sure, very well— and yes,

I know the strings, and the things

And the force of control

And the conduct, the code

Yes, I know not to leave him alone

And we're all full of wonder, here

Of the wonder years,

But where are you, dear?

Cause it's four in the morning—

I'm cold, and I'm lonely—

I'm shocked and forgotten

It's four in the morning

And no,

I'm still not going home.

It's four in the morning

And only just know have I thought

Or a plate full of warmth

And the touch of her fondness

But all oaths,

Cause I took a lover this morning

Another tomorrow

And on, look—

I can't come home until Sunday

(What? I'm building you up!)

And I know I've gone soft

But you know not to

Dollop until I tell you I'm coming

Don't you!

That's a gallop;

There's a Dillon

Where I dare you;

Did you hear ‘em?

These are harems

There's a villain forming

A sweet informant

A node oriental

And no, I meant all of the foam drip on coffee

It's

Not

Out

Of

Bounds until I say you will

My daffodil

Then I fold you into pieces

With my peace

It says

“I'm eating you for supper”

Here goes Saturday for nothing

I still haven't made the cast list

Don't get so far up your marker

That you forgot

That the stars are all going under

Burning out

And ownership of businesses

Other than subscription payments

Mortgages and high interests—

Give the internet good riddance

Or else get lost

Like your appendix

This is

Kurt Sutter?

No, John Carson!

You think you're smart for a marker

And sabertooth tiger

I got no arguments besides building monuments

You wanted us?

Worshipped!

Now all of a sudden while on earth

All reincarnated at once

Almost all of ye's study or praise

No Gods, though you walk among us!

Keep it open

sesame seed buns

I haven't seen you

In your open

No subtronics

I don't bother

No blue eyes

Tight skin

Small stomach

Thin waste

Paper

See through

Just waste

Wait

I'm a trash bag

Non returnable

No refundable

Still not gonna do you harm enough

If you didn't bought it

Still though

Awful convenience

Here's my sandwhich

I just backed up into a fire hydrant

High as a kite

But you all know

I'm so much hotter and fun

Than the other one—

Goddamn,

But at least she's funny

And as long as you want me first

I'll love you and her

Forever.

—Annie.

Don't got a gun;

Then I'd be gone

I don't belong here

I write songs for a living

You know;

No more home for you!

No more going nowhere

If you don't wear Prada

Here yellow canary

You're only a little pretty bird

Cause if I hear you stop singing at all

I know we're all done for—

Run!

It's a gas le—

(AK)

[They blow up. ]

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

flash— bang

Can't believe I'm lying there like

Flash—bang

What a mess I've got us into

Flash—bang

In and out of all dimensions

I can barely pay attention

I was standing in my kitchen

Then it's straight to intermission

(Something like a nasa mission)

Flash—bang

I think this thing is dangerous

I can't sing

I'm tone deaf as Mr. Kimmel

Flash— bang

Off like a grenade

And then I'm off like Walton Goggins—

“Shane!”

Or did someone say action?!

Might be going crazy

Or just famous

Or delayed.

I'm in Grenada.

—Bird Internet.

Written by C'cxell Soleïl

Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū

-Ū.