An entire career based on Mondig greens
It seems things are never what they seem
Shitweaves, a fabric of despair
Stacks and piles and heaps of dismay
All this technical stuff
When I hear culture I reach for my sling
When I hear vulture I reach for my kill
I refuse to be still
I'm sparkling,
my kingdom for a horse My chords are crackling,
my voice is getting
hoarse I keep screening,
a needle in the hay
In mounds and clusters and hills on
display I've aged but I have not changed
I'm tamed but I'm still enraged
I refuse to be still
The entire career hangs on village
greens You've seen thin stars evaporating
A bitched lease,
you've ripped off Liz Phair Hacks and styles and reaps so last made
You stole the guy's big muff When I
read on plugs I reach for spare strings
When I see rapture I reach for the bill I refuse to be still
I'm selling,
my kingdom for a cause My
core is cracking, my noise is getting soft
I keep streaming,
I need to find my way
Through hells and fluster and pills in display
I've caged my sense of engaged I've claimed my access to fame