Lyrics:

Bunk Beds

There's no one iller than my bro the silverback gorilla

listens to Silverchair, me J Dilla.

Master Shredder, Master Splinter

sharing stew in the harshest winters.

Bunk beds and shin splinters.

AC Milan and Inter

Nationale, my rational has never fashionable,

I'm managing to make my tangerine dreams tangible.

Let me share a seggie with you.

If you dare let your hair down like Peggy Sue.

Shoes untied, make up left behind, you can jive through human kind.

We played hide and seek,

for like 16 weeks.

I need to sleep, my knees are weak.

These memories we seek, I'll always keep.

Let me take you to the third floor.

Up steep steps, forgive me for these words sore.

I've endured the purest form of a scorned jaw,

up until I jumped over that lump that I was born for.

Cause I can't cry tears, nope.

That's why I always carry fear, and hope.

So grab a ball that's scratched to bits surely

and get you and your brother to come out and play wallie.

Paulie, the third wheel in the story.

Punchlines are short-lived pleasures when you're 40

but you continue to find it in you to hum the melodies;

perhaps there's more to these homeopathic remedies.

Cause we've all diluted down through time to morph the future

so as the birds and the bees take flight

I thank God that you went to the Hare & Hounds that night.

Stop.

It goes Mum and Dad

and Sister Brother

Sister Brother

Sister Brother

Niece and Nephew

Nephew and Niece

Nephew

Nephew

Nephew

Niece

and Nephew.

Cacophony

Starting to unravel.

Grappling with my mind,

travelling back in time

Why don't you throw javelin over gravel

and see if you can make your mark.

False start after false start,

now here lies your dearly departed.

Lay down in the departure lounge

I've often found I get lost and drown

taken down by the currency.

Fillings and crowns

Shillings and pounds

Money talks and people lie through their teeth is what I've found.

But money is just a number

and numbers never end,

so if money is the key to your happiness

then good luck with that my friend.

Never blend with the trend

otherwise karma chameleon'll

snap at your achilles heel

and though it might genuinely feel like you're breathing in helium,

believe me son, come the evening you'll feel like a toddler teething.

After the coconut teaching I started to second guess what is the real meaning of freedom.

You're gonna have to re-work page 66 of the script

you get the gist, here's a list.

I want the themes to trickle down through every scene.

As I kayak through the stream of consciousness,

I actually walk down a street in metropolis.

Do I have to put a stop to this?

Not one to kiss and tell but when I flipped the coin

I slipped and missed the wishing well.

I was going to wish you well as well.

Fucking hell.

I'm sick of being a coward who likes to duck and dwell.

The bonfire cackles back now.

You take a gulp.

Prepare to explain to those you left engulfed in the flames.

For fortune and fame.

For a tune no less.

For one one.

You became out of tune with the moon.

a repeated cartoon, looming for a plus 1.

A broken vy-nullified mummy wrapped in custard pies

Thankful for the blanket that allowed the blood to stain

but rain ventricles down window panes like veins.

I'll be waiting right here.

I'll be waiting.