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 Exhibit A: The Natural World
Scuba
When you wake up in the morning for the A.M. rise are you wide-eyed, deep fried, are you stupefied?
Brewing up the java and the hot shower steaming cream in sugar cubes still dreaming.
Visions in your mind of all the scenes that you were playing out, holding out, this is
all about the conscious drought of the scenes that you play when you recline. Do you dine on
fine serpentine, television mind? When you're dreaming are you speaking Japanese? Are
you underwater sideways backwards? Are your thoughts of a spiritual nature, a king's crown,
or are you making love root down? Back to reality, the noise and confusion, the real world
smog and the traffic. Confusion.
What's the theme? It's to dream and it seems like it's my turn. Pressure cooker bringing y'all
to a slow burn. Bunged up 'til the sun comes up counting money that your broke ass can't earn.
Say it's for your own good, whatchu talkin' bout, Willis? They're billing us for giving us the
pills that are killing us. Gotta be more than a catch phrase. (ohmygod . . .) Let me just say that
I'd rather be the sun than a satellite. I'd rather be the day than the dead of night. I don't want to
lose sleep, counting sheep in the sheets, worried about my day turning out right. Because a
dream ain't a vision, it's a hologram, and R2-D2 was a trash can. (Did that honky say R2-D2?)
It's a scam. Put a gash in the master plan. Switch your rehashed channels to a new program.
[ drum programming, drums, mouth harmonica, Tap-A-Tune toy xylophone, guitar, vox, "faux-Japanese" vox, piano, cowbell, timbales, shakers, keyboards ]
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