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A Glossary of my Mindless Babbling and Bubbly Quirks


My sister's roomie is a boy from East Timor
My brain's infected with a tumor I am sure

I try and make my head for once a little free
But instead I swallow the bark of a cinnamon tree

I don't enjoy studying about shares
Of brokers and markets, Bears and Bulls, who cares


I got yellow-green phlegm in the back of my throat
Henna on my hand so I couldn't push a boat


Miss Dawson in her skirt plays her guitar out in the cold
For fans who couldn't fit in the hall 'cause all tickets were sold

The night feels long and over sincere
Promising a day that I wish will be clear

All day long I've sat and for calm have sought
And of you seventy-four and half times I've thought

Buildings all around with the sound of the rain
But bringing nothing but some breeze and some pain

In vain I wait for my mind to just focus
I know in my heart it is all simply bogus

Almonds are nice and good and healthy
I shall from tomorrow pop in my mouth at least twenty

Tempted to read that book in my drawer
I wonder why I leave everything at the eleventh hour

Trying so hard to keep myself from calling
I cannot afford a fifth time falling

Guitar looks at me and I look at guitar
Tomorrow I shall strum you after a long comfortable shower

Gems I crave for, yellow and green and orange and pink
I want to smell the badness of the skunk's stink

My Favourite Martian a shout out to you
For inspiring to write fun shit when I'm blue

I like shoes with straps, and light pink sparkly lip balm
Mine I bought because of the pretty firang sales woman at the fair
Don't like it 'cause it's coconut-y and more like oil than balm
Now I'll end this just because I've had my share



THIS COULD TOTALLY BE A RAP SONG!
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