Host Lyrics

HOST



Narrative about a schizophrenic on the red line watchin

his own reflection



Rubber Duckie rains (reigns), mangled drum drops that

drips taps



Call it what it is, or call it what it ain’t - that

simple(?)



Hat cymbals (symbols) crash to fascinate assholes to

mask the mad simple



Crippled asshole with a magic bag of dimples for your

cancer



Rubber Duckie laughing answers out, well why you

hackin’ riddles?



That sunset there looks just like a painting, ask a

black widow



She’ll tell you that we made it, but she taped it to

your back window



The pasty cream of cynisdom, inner wisdom tastes like

being abstract



I think thee protest too much (“No I’m not, no I’m

not”) but it’s just a hint though



A GLIMPSE OF A JOKE ABOUT A BROKEN BRITTLE SOLDIER

SWOLLEN SINGED THROAT



With hopes and dreams but fell asleep in a heap of

insults (Awww…)



The bride of free speech fucked her brother the Rubber

Duckie grins so….



I’m leavin’ it up to you signed the un-wackest with 6

thumbs



It’s like I must be bitin’ both of us that spit dope



The illest period (.) Nope. Etcetera dot dot quote

(..”)



Shit on your inner wicked stepsister and her knock

knock jokes



Rip your little Osh Kosh style and hotbox the hemp rope



Those that don’t teach question mark (?) Dot end quote

(.”)



Rubber Duckie rains coats to dead man in mosquito piss

puddle



What you lookin’ at? Your reflection’s up here, but

it’s subtle



Your thoughts see it best dark in artificially lit

tunnels



At least part of us writes, grip the Duckie tight with

white knuckles



But the way I dance with us, glancin’ up at frightened

chuckles



He ain’t nobody, but my twin will rock the mic just

like I’m quite humble



The funnel spiders and black widows spin nets in case I

stumble



Before I find my spot, to finally get it off my chest



Who the fuck I am and not why I’m not



Rubber Duckie’s got glue boots and one trick(horse

hooves)



Your moon is made of cheese, man, shake believe until

the sun skips



He’s glad you think about him when you write and all



But after all is said and done, you learned I love you



Then we can all



Peep the drum drip taps



Amongst your sunlit scraps



And Turrets



Um um



Boasting in the post script



How the oceans got froze



No shit



Who voted



I musta missed the meeting again I suppose



Supposed