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mint toothpick
down like heavy breathing
a briefcase in my soul
launching russian rockets
i thrive for this control
beyond this heavy barricade
i’m sucking straws for lemonade
“you know which way”, i said,
performance of potato chip
play your games around this town,
i was never good at battleship
is it a mint toothpick?
asked i, as the air was getting thick
it’s what we believe in and what you deserve
for an aminal woodstock on the graded curve
premium cut potatoes
immediate reaction to those tomatoes
those toppings aren’t really fresh
but at least i have my sketchers, it’s the s
fruit on the bottom
you know, they warned me about the calcium
the cows were never renegades,
i doubt you spiked my lemonade
t’ve never played tennis with dennis the menace
nor even an eskimo dentist
never on the skyway, you put a banana in my driveway
and mr. sinatra said i did it my way
