Mr. BungleQuote Unquote

All behold the spectacle A fleshy limbless rectangle Sitting on a pedestal So nasal handicapable Contortions that he can't recall Sniff and remember silver ball The torso on a trampoline The happiness melts into dream To talk is an enunciated sneeze To tatse is some foul air to breathe One thought, it lasts a day And at that rate - he'll most likely live forever!!!!!!!!!! He's a bird in flight, a hermaphrodite And he fucks himself as he fucks the world His twitching brain can dance within A secret means of ecstasy Gyrating more like gelatin Acute and very olfactory To see is colors crawling in the nose To hear is stinking highs and lows He's got an itch, but nothing with which To scratch the itch - so wish it away With his mouth sewn shut, he still shakes his butt 'cause he's Hitler & Swayze & Trump & Travolta Smell. Sweat. Movement. Disco. Everyone's dancing. Dimple. Fading. Darker. A subtle fragrance. Faint. Everyone's dancing without him. Where did it go? Dark. Odorless. Nothing © 2014