I was on a cloud, cherubs brushing my hair
For several hours, you were on the ground punching the air
I'm a live one, if infinitely under repair
Some people call me Aes Rock, some “Is somebody there?”
Shh, somebody's not, and it's more than a passive vacancy
It's less than zero people stealing baguettes out the bakery
Witness like, “Who wasn't that?”
En route to prove a negative and losing
Tryna enter antimatter into evidence
Break for expletives, back in holy country
Where the neighbor's cat is missing and no coyote is hungry
And every lizard leapin', I'm every bit indecent
Aiming for whoever presently king of the tetrahedron
The funny part is, who would even want to sit up there?
Throne shmone, I'm home in a Herman Miller chair
Working, hunched over something, blowing smoke
Kirby on his lap purrin', cervical spine chirping, chills
It's perfect, certain as the plaid shirt tag reads Kirkland
I walk around late, cross a bridge and cross a bridge back
Never passed a quiz for a bridge troll's trick bag
Even if he offers three guesses, I appreciate the interest but will not be taking questions
I will be taking any route I want including dead ends
To any place I want including all the many heavens, but

It's a mess out here
I heard it's a mess there too
Remember, when the smoke starts blowing, and your eyes start stinging
And your throat starts closing, what a little fresh air can do

By the first red sliver of daystar
Somebody went and freed a couple chickens in the graveyard
Weird flex, but I like a weird flex
I like an odd duck who adheres to a spirit quest, per se
Fish swim in circles where he curdles
Dogs purr, birds fly inverted
Perps turn to serpents, but the waves are yay high
The surf is way up and ocean water ain't sustain the grapevine
Get barreled, get spat through space-time
Beached where you dress strange, different plane and dateline
Before the stop, stare, and questionnaire
Bitch, I dress like a Rocket Man everywhere
Pops had a pinball machine from the '60s
I can still hear it ringing when I'm pinging off epiphanies
Ping, ping, ping, there go the king of zing
Who made it up the precipice and never kissed a pinky ring
Repel through a skylight once a week or feel like I’m someone I don't wanna be
I used to party with animatronic Chuck E. Cheese
Any celebrities I met since then were fucking weak
The door knocker talks, might make you solve a riddle before you bother the boss
Y'all, get off my lawn, it's a Bob Ross
And no eye contact with the shop dogs

It's a mess out here
I heard it's a mess there too
Remember, when the smoke starts blowing, and your eyes start stinging
And your throat starts closing, what a little fresh air can do