Biding Times

Here's how it shakes down, Lavan
We are too far gone
These biding times
Are benign
What you are trying to find
is far too refined

Like crude,
I'm not trying to be rude
But you are grasping -
What you are asking
of us, is too much
We enjoy our crutch
before and after lunch

It's zoochosis;
Hope is atrocious
We are too unfocused
to help, or change
It's just too long range
We like short burst
hookery;
not ever wholly rooting
against crookery

That said, it's the great day after
Any laughter that might grow
should be hung from the rafter
Let down slow
But things slide toward mob
Roll toward cold, harsh, disinterested
Holidays other than fourth and memorial
need to be administered
Otherwise,
we'd just aim guns to the sky

This is imperative
to understand our cob
and how to add back kernels
Like stand up urinals,
we are made in China
of china
Plagued with angina
and reaching for the Vernor's
we say,

rob freedom
Because we believe in ownership
That's why I have to change my
tone or skip
Because our try
is at odds
With much more powerful nods
This is do or die
and most prefer the latter
because it comes with batter

Oh, sweet Lavan
Your blessing bestowed
is something viewed on loan
then owed
A nation indebted
to original sling;
rock, gun, rope
This is original dope
It's why your artists sound funny
It's why we flash our money
It's why we sound good
Even when our noses are runny
Because our colors won't
We would rather color safe
and chafe
Than bow out
with grace

Just so you know
who you're dealing with
we love a hype man
we like to know who we are stealing with
Turning on dimes
if they fail to shine
We like it sparkly clean
Better than original sheen
That is our dream
--
4.23.10