Set em on fire just to cool em down, start it out fast and then slow it down. Marketing strategies make that sweet sound and a little attention to detail. Some kid tries to start out their first LP with a tad bit of grit and some honesty. They’ve mapped out the layers, consulted affiliates Well I guess you can call me an artist
Look I know you’ve all got things to do but we’ve got some things to say so we’ll make this short.
Tell me, please, who owns these monkey bars? No one, we’re just cells in jars.
Then pick up the beat on the second verse, swing it/add color to make it heard. Through blood on the tracks and the grooves in cd’s, rub it in with your shitty lyrics. Now is the time when we’re ready for the catch, some hook that will beg for more. We’ll shout it out louds at the top of our lungs so the neighbors will hear us and all sing along.
Tell me, please, who owns these monkey bars? No one, we’re just dust from stars
If that’s all that we are then we’ve got to be heard because it’s all a class war. We need a cultural burn. But we’re all just swingin’ from trees like the Bonobos. Oh darlin’, we just aren’t that evolved.
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