Flavor Flav Out of Context

I want to be Flavor Flav out of context
Drawing stares and rocking clocks
‘Cause it’s all rocks as far as I can see

Church by numbers
Love by the mask of time
Watching the name turn to stone

There’s no good question,
But the answer’s kind of twisted and hopeful.
I’d say, “Try breaking fewer hearts next time.”
I’d say, “Hurry back.”
I’d plant my feet and turn on the water.

                         Chuck ran home to put on his Converse
                         Barefoot, no time to water the lawn first
                         No time to be thinking about your daughter
                         And the acre of the moon that her boyfriend bought her
                         No time like the day in the middle of August
                         When the marble-hearted trampoline instructor should have caught us

                         Come the day my face is up on telephone poles
                         A reminder of the maps we drew to Huntington Beach
                         The boroughs rattled like a jar of pelican bones
                         And you dressed in burning pearl to see how far you could reach

                         We still believe in these things
                         And we're livin' like kings - fine
                         I got a dozen and I think I’m gonna bet nine
                         Don’t tell the divas outside the casino
                         That I’m eavesdroppin’ on them when I walk out the door
                         That’s counterproductive?  I don’t know what you mean
                         Unless the fruits of summer died and now you’re the queen

                         You say counterproductive, I say Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Have some Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Babcock.  Peaches.
                         (Counterproductive!)     Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Pick a peck of peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     Babcock peaches
                         (Counterproductive!)     ... tell you what:

                         Take two peaches and call me in the morning
                         You’ll be rolling in the clover, I’ll be in my bed and snoring
                         Intuition only ferries you to haunted armoires
                         And then it drops you by the river like the driftwood you are

                         Throw a hoagie down the field for a twenty-yard pass
                         I’ll be open when the rabbi’s hiding eggs in the grass
                         Your dreams are running tardy like a pop-tart gangster
                         So chew on it and see me when you think you have an answer

Split between lines, one and two
Wearing green a day late, as usual
Entropy night at the Dupree
Because it isn’t feeling constructive, New York!

I’ll see your tag high on a floodwall
How sweet to reminisce
Under the sand, you know, everybody’s in
And goes a little something like this …

The End

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