Why - Sod In The Seed lyrics

rate me

His hooves in dirt pound

And eat up ground

He cannot remain bound

When the trumpets sound

Let's review some recent facts

I make decent cash, I'm a minor star

And we can't last if she don't drive a hybrid car

I scribble vapid raps on your flyer backs

The word is I purchased a refurbished Mac G4

Pull up to critical mass in a gas-guzzling Ford

Just to ask you when next your rock outfit performs

Before you tell me the fact, I'm down the road yelling back

Please post it on the Whole Foods bulletin board

I'd earn a lick of respect in slum art for sure

But I threw out my lumbar picking up checks

I'm so numb, Lord, yes, despite how I'm blessed

I'm destined to end up a slum lord depressed

Come by, poorly dressed, your address on the first

Hum something under my breath that half resembles some words

And like a bird in a suit cut for a brutish bear

Back out of there bowing like a Jew in prayer

I'll never shirk this first world curse

A steady hurt and a sturdy purse

A small dark bard, I'll give an inch to start

Then leave you home dreaming of the whole nine yards

Leave you home dreaming, believing that you'd seen me

Loose skin breathing like a cathedral at evening

Screaming like a demon in the Garden of Eden

Missing what parts that a stork in it's beak brings

But even what an evil man thinks is really pink

And on his insides, doesn't mean you shouldn't pull his card out

So what if a man blinks in Morse code while he sings if he sings his heart

Out?

Everybody's gotta get paid

I'd say "far out, no way"

Frankly, I'd be amazed

But a patriot would save the day

Make the hitch, help C.I.A

What's bad, what's good

A complicated man is misunderstood, even to himself

Acutely unaware what's in a shallow breath of air

And long exhale of something else

Two sips, instant drip, Sanka mud

New corpus publicist, thanks ya bud

As hundred bucks worth of wordy blogger thugs

Come forth forthwith to four seasons aflood

To morbidly orbit your toilet like hornets abuzz

Forming above like buzzards in love

When you first wake up, spitting sick from the gut

And shitting black blood at six

Then you wonder why I'm high up, sitting, yup

The blundering braggart

From a covered wagon spitting under the vagrants in gutters

What, does it make me evil?

Am I a feeble deranged fuck?

Cause Jesus would and I would not drive the needle exchange truck?

Well if I'm out of luck, I'm still pitching notes through this throat

Pissing fears and hopes through the ears of folks listening

No matter what, batter up enough of this nonsense

You can gather up the contents of the catcher's cup and suck

You kneel and squint your eyes and cup your hands against the window

Just to see who rides, to get a glimpse inside the limo

Have some self-respect and exercise some tact

While I supply the info that you lack

One must pay the frat fee to enjoy the fat-free snacks

Strippers, roofies, and six-packs, and groupies with big breasts

Sending out mass texts asking who's next

To get his lance waxed in the wickedest sex acts

Step back from the stretch, mack, and mind the gap

With all due respect sir, there's a limited cap

You'll need a ticket to kick it in the back

Of this rented, tinted-out black Cadillac

But I can tell by your polo slacks, Sebagos, and blank stare

You're good for the total package and game to be back there

But who am I to judge a man's heart by his yacht wear?

And it scares me to death, yes, that I'm starting to not care

Good and evil's often neither strength or flaw

But sod in the seed of what you are

A filthy silt stashed in a white silk sash

Or a doula dove smashed in an airplane crash

You'll never shirk this first world curse

A steady hurt and a sturdy purse

A steady hurt and a sturdy purse