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letra de mucka blucka - chonny jash

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[chicken noises]

…nah, i’m just f-ckin’ with ya

whattup, motherf-ckers!
ya ever seen anyone lose their mind on-mic?
well come on in. grab a seat. grab a cuppa
and watch the chook bat his third strike

come one, come all to the extravaganza;
the cacophonous callousness; the coop of stanza
there’s so much here to see, so have a gander
and meet your poultric pullet commander
the coward in question? by now, you know him so well
but then, who am i to go and cluck and tell?
instead, i’ll instil this tetherous will
to trot and toil inside my personal h-ll

sisyphus: his rock. the timepiecе: its tock
and winston trudges through minitrue’s minutiae
and likе an archaic cuckoo clock, i’ll chirp, and chant, and c-ck
in complete disregard for my future

so enjoy the show, especially those in the splash zone
place your bets. let’s see how fierce the auction gets

can you tell me what on earth i’m supposed to do
when you tell me one and one cannot equal two?
if mr sun can’t shine, nor can mr moon
and yet each day that passes has this tension boil and stew

so forgive the effrontery, but i must beg you to humble me
and throw this pavlov dog another bone
it’s a fair hike, you see, that peak we call prosperity
and this bard is in dire need of a loan

naught i’m but a man. and sad although i am
i’m really trying my hardest to move forward
so when we come back here again, and the start becomes an end
consider this lamentation a foreword
singing songs you like to hear, ’til the dissonance reappears
there’s probably subtext, are you picking it up?
it’s a metaphor for… ha, who gives a f-ck. i’m in a cage

subvert the expected to avert stagnation
but if you rely on that diversion, subversion is expectation
and the whole d-mn point of this experimentation
was to avoid that h0m-genization

so please, tell me what the h-ll i’m supposed to be
when the total sum of me really equals three
amalgamate, hate, berate ’til we all roam free?
when in reality we know we’ll be condemned to rinse and repeat

there’s a me stuck underground
a me left on the shelf
a me that gets paraded: the me that’s shown to everyone else
and sure, i lament the lack of a hen to share with in sick or in health
but how am i supposed to love another when i barely know myself?

i’m the enlightened! i am the free!
we’re the despited. we are the freak
a soliloquy this be, before the scene you came to see;
the peak before the lethargy

escalate, escalate. don’t fall. don’t hesitate
don’t let the other half take control
and when push comes to shove in this dual, dead, dueling love
we’ll see if you can truly be whole
and who will pay the toll?
the heart, the mind or the soul?

oh, baby, you. you know what i need
i think it’s obvious: a captive audience
who will refuse to properly see
the man behind the lines;
the triplicated lines

no, baby, you. you’re not what i need
i don’t need a helping hand that’s hidden in the sand
no, baby, you can’t help me be free
it’s painful to admit, but even i can see through my bullsh-t

one time they tried to sing to me
about blues and greens; the in-betweens
but mechanical hands decided where the heart would be: just apathy
i had been trying for years and for years that streamed
to thrive, and relish entropy
but when he finally shot at me, lines once solid were blurred

and right as he (i) missed, my eyes in a mist
i finally realized i shot at myself
the reflection of the else;
the disconnection; the side of the coin at once withheld

you know we’ve
been here before, and will be once more
when we trip on the line that we toe;
when we slip off the vine that’s regrown
and when we fall into the darkness below, that’s when we’ll know

that we are
stuck in between, in indemnity, the indomitable weather
of opposites with no regard for time; no reason behind their rhyme
slow, patternly, is the melody, that he’s stringing together
but they have time enough to spend some time alone
all alone
all alone
all alone

- chonny jash

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