Funk-A-Licious

Funk a licious, dunk attricious, where you buy those pants at, cause they malicious?

The colours don't mesh, just like our schedules, I'll prolly never see you again because you're visually illegible.

Like a vampires reflection, invisible to detection, like the nervous stuttering kid at the spelling bee might be needing correction, corrective lenses, pre tense programs with an intense lack of friendes.

Aye-aye there chiefy, seems to be quite leafy in this spot that the rot has begun to become beefy.

Unlike those vegetarians who claims that fish aren't meat, there seems to be a problem with that statement they seat, in the back of your mind.


Trying to trick the establishment into establishing a new rule, where anything with feet is meat and those that swim are considered cool to eat.

Off topic, sub tropic, snowing where the air is stereoscopic.

3D tvs wont work inside the sea, or anywhere that's wet for that matter can't you see.

But real life works whether swimming or not, whether dimming or trimming or even spinning on spot.

Sometimes I say stuff, and it makes no sense, but it's fodder so why bother, even trying to fence, off what I'm saying, kinda like saying off with my head.

As it be rolling, you be trolling, about to climb outta bed. I'll prolly be climbing in, to my mattress of leaves instead, of material istic, is it, or is it isms?

I can never remember, ballistic-cali-schism, that's a password I wrote, to a place that don't exist, so why did I use the blade to carve into my wrist?

Just kidding, their ain't no carvings, my arms no a jack o lantern. Plus I could never back space if I messed up where the plan turned.

Wholly moley, what a foley I made and when I made it I made it solely, at the discretion of the goalie who scored the shot across the ice but super slowly.

Puck driven, muck given never had a smuck briven. What ever that is, I never had it, so am I liven?

Gonna end, so pretend, you care, and then befriend, a stranger at the place your going to before the weekend.

thanks

Thanks for nothing, thanks for everything you didn't ever do, didn't try, didn't care, got by by being unfair, over here, over there, everywhere, where's where?

I don't care, and my words will display, the discord I never felt from all the projected dismay.

Now I'm moving on, what's next, where will I end up?

What do you care, with your shish hair, and your jellied fliff flup.

That's right you got some features that be a needing new names, Like Lou Garret had that thing that made him uncanny in ways.

Like a ruffian hoodlum, you always seem to be, not worrying about anyone else, but you only considering ye.

Like an apple that's gone rotten, taking others to the grave, cause you were useless, and ruthless in the kind of talentless way.

You smile is vile, your teeth are all black, their rotten, soft as cotton, and your breaths smelling bad.

So what do I care if you never ever reconsider, consider sitting with the sitter you gonna tell me I'm bitter?

Just think of my words as litter, spewing out from my brains, they have no meaning till you add it,  does that make it inane?

What does it matter without matter, without me, not to be flattered, considering the latter to be as if it's kinda batter, that you coat your emotional state with while you go on getting fatter.

Time riding, laden with lying, wasting money, don't need buying, get your things together before you crying, it's too late, you have been flying, now your older, more brittle in your ways, and fiddling days, almost gone, and filled with haze.

All your hairs turned into greys, all those memories have erased, like a blank slate you be in a stank state for days.

So what do I care once again I ask, you need me more than I you. But you've forgotten that since the last time that I told you, but much time has passed.

Thanks for nothing, spanking muffins, cranking stuffing just to say, painting the picture that I wish to display.