Additional Notes:

No Notes Available

Backstory:

I have it in slow tempo. I like it but it too long. With this tempo it shorter. I understand that this pace affects legibility.                                                     

Lyrics:

                                                  
V1
The tripping sun finally fell off the skies

And dispersed into a thousand streetlights

Avenues of blow-kisses and fistfights

Come alive in a motley disguise

 

Throwing lasso-words, smelling like booze

With facial hair of a macaque-rhesus

Slim and weary, and dressed like Jesus

A weirdo-poet is on the loose

CH 
          Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
          Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
          The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
          Streets are like an exotic fish tank
          
HOOK
Do you see yourself in it?
Where do you fit? 


V2
There is a flock of complex hairdos

Silk-slick ladies with painted talons

Look for lawyers, but find felons

And gently funnel them into I-dos

 

A proud pink piggy with a pale ponytail

Is in a tight tank top prancing south

A wattle wobbles under her pelican mouth

A sign of a torture by diets that fail

CH 
          Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
          Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
          The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
          Streets are like an exotic fish tank
          
HOOK
Do you see yourself in it?
Where do you fit?

BR
Shiny gills on squeaky throats 
Someone swims and someone floats
Hissing fizz and making bubbles 
Asking for troubles

Troubles

Troubles 

V3
Harden guns, abs hidden in Ed Hardy

Eyes on a target one hundred percent

Nostrils look for the pheromone scent

There is a pack of lush egos in hunting

 

Here she goes – on the hooves of a gazelle

Gives them the look hottest in a city

Alluring, long like the neck of Nefertiti

The pack of egos falls under her spell

 
CH 
          Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
          Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
          The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
          Streets are like an exotic fish tank
          
HOOK
Do you see yourself in it?
Where do you fit?

CH 
          Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
          Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
          The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
          Streets are like an exotic fish tank
          
HOOK
Do you see yourself in it?
Where do you fit?