Krill - Hail Mary Mallon

Go Go Go Go

Go Go Go

Sour dough toast and a sky in the morning

Of roses and red dye 40

I boards up doors

Bored a cult, rewind Porky’s

Border line Vorhees

Porridge line, more please (more, please)

Pull up like a hundred flying Dorothys

Incorrigible, undermine authorities enormously, Sir!

First words don’t go in the top drawer

Scofflaws, taxidermied fashion fox paws

And Rock watch dogs, from live at the cat climber

Where I punt a fucking pop star into a trash fire

Pearls are clutched, pipes fall from the frozen

Bystanding witnesses enthralled in the moment

It’s a man ran ragged, a plan lambasted

Brick heart, I trip the dark fantastic

And often

Outside ollie-ollie-ominous glow

Copy, it’s gotta be some impossible joke

In chains when he out with the navy crewmen

And it’ll turn wild cats into lazy susans

With his angry tooth and a failing eye

And a rope with nails if his bail’s denied

With a goat’s entrails in his baking cupboard

And a gold-rimmed grail in his apron just for

Occasion suppers and buying pockets

Of lances and land for a flying ostrich

Pleading butlers, deceiving hunters

And dividing the animals by even numbers

Police are under the bridge demanding

That I at least turn back into Rick Moranis

Seat slope backed in my camper decked in

A sea foam hat and some panther leggings

Scans your settings like a horse I trot

Around your tracks and back

(Intrigued?)

No I’m not

Aim for the ribs

Play, get framed where you sit

Talking like it ain’t what it is

Money over love

Son, you couldn’t button up enough

Talking like it wasn’t what it was

King of the hill

Ping, ping

Ringing his bell

Talking like it won’t be what it will

Swim with the krill

Hit-hit-hit-hit-hit me

Hit-hit-hit-hit-hit me

Eyes on slinkies

Acid wash denim over iron-on Springsteen

Pirates don’t pick teams

Pick a wing and a prayer and a palmed crib sheet

Talk turkey over nine days old split-pea

This cult kid decode the clandestine

Intel sold to the man with the X eyes

Sex symbols pants pulled chest high

Tape on his glasses, breath like a dead guy

Like H to the MM, feed to the minnows

You know Danny Zuko and I’m leavin' with Rizzo

Caged birds 'til she plead the fifth

And I pull out the jammies and I sleep 'til six

Peace, pills, pigs and the warden’s laughter

And a refill fix for the morning after

Could be boring rapper, could be action film

Could be pushing up daisies or daffodils

Aim for the ribs

Play, get framed where you sit

Talking like it ain’t what it is

Money over love

Son, you couldn’t button up enough

Talking like it wasn’t what it was

King of the hill

Ping, ping

Ringing his bell

Talking like it won’t be what it will

Swim with the krill

Hit-hit-hit-hit-hit me

Hit-hit-hit-hit-hit me