Packard Goose

Maybe you thought i Was the packard goose
Or the ronald
Macdonald of the
Nouveau-abstruse
Well fuck all them
People, I dont
Need no excuse
For being what I am Do you hear me, then?
All them rock n roll
Writers is the worst
Kind of sleaze
Selling punk like
Some new kind of English disease
Is that the wave
Of the future?
Aw, spare me please!
Oh no, you gotta go Who do you write for?
I wanna know
I believe you is the
Governments whore
And keeping peoples
Dumb is where youre
Coming from
And keeping peoples
Dumb is where youre
Coming from
Fuck all them writers
With the pen in Their hand
I will be more
Specific so they
Might understand
They can all
Kiss my ass
But because its
So grand
Theyd best just
Stay away
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, joe, who
Did you blow?
Moe pushed
The button boy
And you went
To the show
Better suck a little
Harder or the shekels
Wont flow
And I dont mean
Your thumb
So on your knees
You bum
Just tell yourself
Its yum
And suck it till
Youre numb
Journalisms
Kinda scary
And of it We should be wary
Wonder what became
Of mary?
And no sooner has he wondered, a vision of mary appears to him, delivering a little lecture…
Voice of marys vision:
Hi! its me…
The girl from the bus…
Remember?
The last tour?
Well…
Information is Not knowledge
Knowledge is Not wisdom
Wisdom is not truth
Truth is not beauty
Beauty is not love
Love is not music
Music is the best…
Wisdom is the domain
Of the wis
(which is extinct).
Beauty is a french
Phonetic corruption
Of a short cloth
Neck ornament
Currently in Resurgence…
And no sooner has she spoken (which is awkward and probably incorrect but what
the fuck), enormous flabby short cloth neck ornaments obscure the horizon in a multitude, beating their ugly wings
Orking their hidden chrome snap attachments as they resurge in the direction of the white zone seeking snack material near the utensil shrines of greater
america…
Joe:
If youre in the
Audience and like
What we do Well, we want you
To know that we Like you all too
But as for the
Sucker who will
Write the review
If his mind
Is prehensile
(his mind
Is prehensile)
Hell put down
His pencil
(hell put down
His pencil)
And have
Himself a squat
On the cosmic utensil
(cosmic utensil)
Go give it all you got
On the cosmic utensil
(cosmic utensil)
Sit n spin until you rot
On the cosmic utensil
(cosmic utensil)
He really needs
To squat
On the cosmic utensil
(cosmic utensil
Cosmic utensil)
Now that I got that
Over with
Ill just play my Imaginary guitar again
Hey…
Soundin pretty good!
Hey… get down, me…
Boy, what an Imagination!
Love myself better
Than I love myself…
I think…
What tone!
Sounds like an Elegant gypsy!
What is that?
Musk?
Its hip!