Parrot from Lab Book by Your Thing

This Side D-ish
Was made, by
Raven, Pris, and Knic
It’s called Parrot,
And so is this song
Parrot

Give up UR hang-ups
Language just changes
Sup, suppers up

Peacock’n, man
You nuts
Sealions damn
You Suck

Saw through,
One leg of the
Three-legged stool,
Pulled the other two
A whole in the pool,
Channeling heir through
Tight teeth, gritted mouth piece
Pampered rich boy,
Operatic gestures,
red hat, red
Reaction based, drunk on rage
Oddly whiffed on a shuttlecock
And blamed Your Thing,
Privilege peeking,
fucking peacocks man, damn
Never let us down
Never turn around
It’s all scorched, charred
Your wife on Mars
A salt caryatid
Fam, man, you’re bad
Don’t have a cow, man!
No, you don’t have a cow.

Their imperative
Acknowledge no rebellions and
Parrot their Commands
Demented demands
Tanking the dollar
Bounding headfirst
Sounding so bland
Couldn’t be any less
Scanned and marked
Rebel rebel brand
Rebel rebel banned

It’s said Latins dead
Except in the cold months,
with mix matched numbers
Helps to remember
All the embers
Taken together
In inventory
Unum, Duo, Tria
Quattuor, Quinque
Sex, Septem,
Octo, Novem,
Decem, ten of them
As is our typical digits
With numerals, Arabic
Most efficient

They favorite acronym
A-B-U-S-E-M,
Always Be Using
Someone Else’s Money
ABUSEM
On fleek, on flaw
Callow gallows ska
Skin shallow
Microbe thin
Stratum corneum

Given the boot,
Boot, boot,
Over and over,
Rebooted, till no
Longer moves,
pointless moot
Obtuse, dispence
With the trig
Cosine the proof
indisputable,
indistinguishable
From real truth

Give up UR hangups
Language just changes
‘Sup, clear the table
We need an altar
We need an alter

Your imperative
Acknowledge no rebellions and
Parrot Your Commands
Demented demands
Tanking the dollar
Bounding headfirst
Sounding so bland
Couldn’t be any less
Scanned, your marked
Rebel rebel banned
Rebel rebel brand

Piero Manzoni supposedly
Canned his shit, only
Sold for weight in gold
After young death
Never cheered,
To his health at thirty
Shy by a year, a couple years
Older then Basquiat
At his departure
Yet our heroine, perhaps
Brave client cracked,
Opens up that can and
plaster, WTF?
Supposedly crap, just putty!
Poignant, punching up
I got you friend,
Got you bread
Guised as hoity-toity

Why our imperative
Acknowledge no rebellions and
Parrot our commands
Demented demands
Tanking the dollar
Bounding headfirst
Sounding so bland
I’m a mark, a brand
In an umarked van
Rebel rebel band
It’s a scam,
It’s a scam

So, sign right here friend
Trace scrawl grace
The blank,
Till they steamroll our vinyl
on the football field, Lab Book
Sides indistinguishable
That’s the truth

Knight starry-eyed
Finds spectacle
In woods

• Electronic
• Experimental
• art funk
• jazz
• noise rock
• sludge pop
• United States