Do
you really think we feel the need to
listen about your boring life in a fursong?
Pack in and go to Tibet,
ride a camel wearing a pink bicycle helmet,
dye your shoe blue,
grow a mustache,
circle the world in a paper canoe,
and then burn it.
Subscribe
to the Saturday Evening Post and to a missing Spider-Man as well.
Chew on the left side of your mouth only.
Marry a woman with one leg and she with a straight razor.
Curve her name in her arm.
Brush your teeth with gasoline.
Eat junk food on a luxury liner.
But never, never write a song.
But
never write a song.
But never write a song.
But never write a song.
Sleep
all day and climb trees at night.
Hold your head underwater and play a lefty guitar.
Do a belly dance before pin candles.
Kill your dog just before he kills you.
Make a frog.
Run for major without any chance to win.
Live in a cellar.
In a barrel.
In a bottle.
In a cork.
Cut and paste useless wooden toys.
Break your head with a hatchet.
Plant tulips in the rain and stay at home while science shines.
Learn by heart the old Star Wars trilogy.
Destroy poetry.
But never, never write a song.
But never write a song.
Not for me, too.
But never, never write a song.
But never write a song.