Time to wake up
The rooster roar
The tortured scorching sky
The rude shampoo and sun
Collude to shove
Pollutants into eyes
The nasty paper cut
The petty parent fight
The dampened Captain Crunch
The blackened rye
Time to wake up
Look behind
The starting line’s in view
(When nothing wasn’t new)
Everything there is remains
The days arrayed and
Waiting to accrue
(All of it left to do)
Soon what we construe as you
Will make its clueless debut
Awaken with sleep snot in your eye
With an unsightly film of phlegm
That breached the teeth and climbed
With little REM, but not the Mike Stipe kind
With a hairstyle that might
Make a mad scientist sigh
Mr. Tambourine Man sing for me
Mr. Sandman bring me a dream
Mr. Ambien Man do your thing
My room is full of stuff
The swear jar fat with cents
The blanket grandma made
The stain the spaghetti left
The top bunk I fell off
The comic books I bought
The burnt CD with lawlessly begotten songs
A poster of The Rock
A couple Lego blocks
A broken ring I broke
Mom thought was lost
Time to wake up
The tongueless floss
The sock that lost a twin
(The light guides by the switch)
The emaciated toothpaste
The bewhiskered brush that needs a trim
The sobbing sink emits
The miserly couch is getting rich
The talkative toilet lid
Awaken with sleep snot in your eye
With an unsightly film of phlegm
That breached the teeth and climbed
With little REM, but not the Mike Stipe kind
With a hairstyle that might
Make a mad scientist sigh
Mr. Tambourine Man can you sing?
Mr. Sandman bring me a dream
Mr. Ambien Man do your thing
Wakey, wakey, come and make me
Naked, shaky, pate is achy
Rise and shine, hive mind o’ mine
I think you’ll find the weather’s fine
Well, not if you like being dry
But don’t you hide, stride out in pride
No time like the present, right?
Even if your life’s in strife
Dog died? Despise your wife?
In spite of jive, ride with the tide
Oh, I’m sure when that alarm went off
You hit the snooze so hard it
Shattered like a missile target
Scared to blare, lest it be impaired again
You dawn the hated garment
Microwave an egg and scarf it
Ladies, germs, gents and larva
Demos of the ad department
It’s Morning Zoo with you know who
And ooh-wee-ooh, here’s breaking news
It’s mayhem in the AM
Oh, this traffic is a circus
If you’re going off to work
It’s a nightmare on I-90
I’d keep some wine beside me
With how little I’d be driving
To all the coffee zombies
Slogging down the foggy road
Or to those of you at home
Loading up a cup o’ Joe
Try to take it smooth and slow
As you grow from utero
The chickens roost, the cows come home
The creatures reap what we have sewn
A bird in hand is two in bush
If you kill them with one stone
The stroke of midnight was the time
The 25 of that July
In 92, the falling Sioux
The ICU was sterilized
The only roof I occupied
While never having gone inside
Mom had hardly learned to drive
Before I glided through her thighs
Grandma cried, “He’s gone awry”
But it was just the labor slime
Who knew it was true
If you do what the youth
Has been groomed not to do
Too much, you will go blind
I'm a decade older now than mom was
When they shouted ‘It’s alive’
The idea of being tied
To a whining child
I confide, is quite a mighty fright
You’d be high, if you describe
My life as the desirable, admirable type
I guess I’m slightly bright, but why
Would I inspire a thriving mind?
I barely stand myself upright
I can’t be liable for a life
I won’t be ripe in ten years’ time
Christ, beside the ten behind
It would be a lie, if I
Were to imply I’m qualified
To be the guy a pair of eyes
Tiny, spying, open wide
Should analyze or scrutinize
Or frighteningly idolize
To pry advice to utilize
To strive to go by my design
To inquire how and why
For some reply that satisfies
My pizza slice’s grease is wiped
On jammies with an open fly
Whoa, okay, I’m sorry, folks
To go expose these broken bones
But don’t be mopey, mouth a-foaming
Hoping by the radio
This croaking host forgoes his crowing
Growing stony, you’re approaching
Loathing for the blowhard blowing
And so monotonely droning
On and on and on he’s going
I’d be so pleased, if he’d only stop
So let not it be intoned
This host postponed the show he’s hosting
There won’t be no more withholding
Swear it on my very soul
Because here are the closures, folks
We owe to slowly lowering snow
The rooster roar
The tortured scorching sky
The rude shampoo and sun
Collude to shove
Pollutants into eyes
The nasty paper cut
The petty parent fight
The dampened Captain Crunch
The blackened rye
Time to wake up
Look behind
The starting line’s in view
(When nothing wasn’t new)
Everything there is remains
The days arrayed and
Waiting to accrue
(All of it left to do)
Soon what we construe as you
Will make its clueless debut
Awaken with sleep snot in your eye
With an unsightly film of phlegm
That breached the teeth and climbed
With little REM, but not the Mike Stipe kind
With a hairstyle that might
Make a mad scientist sigh
Mr. Tambourine Man sing for me
Mr. Sandman bring me a dream
Mr. Ambien Man do your thing
My room is full of stuff
The swear jar fat with cents
The blanket grandma made
The stain the spaghetti left
The top bunk I fell off
The comic books I bought
The burnt CD with lawlessly begotten songs
A poster of The Rock
A couple Lego blocks
A broken ring I broke
Mom thought was lost
Time to wake up
The tongueless floss
The sock that lost a twin
(The light guides by the switch)
The emaciated toothpaste
The bewhiskered brush that needs a trim
The sobbing sink emits
The miserly couch is getting rich
The talkative toilet lid
Awaken with sleep snot in your eye
With an unsightly film of phlegm
That breached the teeth and climbed
With little REM, but not the Mike Stipe kind
With a hairstyle that might
Make a mad scientist sigh
Mr. Tambourine Man can you sing?
Mr. Sandman bring me a dream
Mr. Ambien Man do your thing
Wakey, wakey, come and make me
Naked, shaky, pate is achy
Rise and shine, hive mind o’ mine
I think you’ll find the weather’s fine
Well, not if you like being dry
But don’t you hide, stride out in pride
No time like the present, right?
Even if your life’s in strife
Dog died? Despise your wife?
In spite of jive, ride with the tide
Oh, I’m sure when that alarm went off
You hit the snooze so hard it
Shattered like a missile target
Scared to blare, lest it be impaired again
You dawn the hated garment
Microwave an egg and scarf it
Ladies, germs, gents and larva
Demos of the ad department
It’s Morning Zoo with you know who
And ooh-wee-ooh, here’s breaking news
It’s mayhem in the AM
Oh, this traffic is a circus
If you’re going off to work
It’s a nightmare on I-90
I’d keep some wine beside me
With how little I’d be driving
To all the coffee zombies
Slogging down the foggy road
Or to those of you at home
Loading up a cup o’ Joe
Try to take it smooth and slow
As you grow from utero
The chickens roost, the cows come home
The creatures reap what we have sewn
A bird in hand is two in bush
If you kill them with one stone
The stroke of midnight was the time
The 25 of that July
In 92, the falling Sioux
The ICU was sterilized
The only roof I occupied
While never having gone inside
Mom had hardly learned to drive
Before I glided through her thighs
Grandma cried, “He’s gone awry”
But it was just the labor slime
Who knew it was true
If you do what the youth
Has been groomed not to do
Too much, you will go blind
I'm a decade older now than mom was
When they shouted ‘It’s alive’
The idea of being tied
To a whining child
I confide, is quite a mighty fright
You’d be high, if you describe
My life as the desirable, admirable type
I guess I’m slightly bright, but why
Would I inspire a thriving mind?
I barely stand myself upright
I can’t be liable for a life
I won’t be ripe in ten years’ time
Christ, beside the ten behind
It would be a lie, if I
Were to imply I’m qualified
To be the guy a pair of eyes
Tiny, spying, open wide
Should analyze or scrutinize
Or frighteningly idolize
To pry advice to utilize
To strive to go by my design
To inquire how and why
For some reply that satisfies
My pizza slice’s grease is wiped
On jammies with an open fly
Whoa, okay, I’m sorry, folks
To go expose these broken bones
But don’t be mopey, mouth a-foaming
Hoping by the radio
This croaking host forgoes his crowing
Growing stony, you’re approaching
Loathing for the blowhard blowing
And so monotonely droning
On and on and on he’s going
I’d be so pleased, if he’d only stop
So let not it be intoned
This host postponed the show he’s hosting
There won’t be no more withholding
Swear it on my very soul
Because here are the closures, folks
We owe to slowly lowering snow
( Soul Phage )
www.ChordsAZ.com