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Motorboaterhead

from The Summer We All Bought Guns by Kevin Dixon

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lyrics

Now that don’t sound like something I’d say but if you wanna believe it then it’s all yours to explain. How many breaks can we keep giving the shake in a year? Go on and lop off the edges til you make the whole fucking thing disappear. Saw it off with a shovel. Over time you can wear it away. Grind it to dust, do what you must, make it pay! Get out of the red. Get into the grey. Get off of the road. Get on with your trip. Backstabber I know that you’re hiding there foaming. Hey jack rabbit can you hop a little higher this morning? Boing! Drop it in flame do it again. Lay asunder all the parts that you’re dreading. Give it a kick tap on its wrist. Is it dead or is it only pretending? Get outta the dark. Get into the dank. Get off on the shine. Get onto the stain. You’re always chop chop chopping. Now ain’t it a bitch? You gotta keep it from rocking and running right in the ditch. What’s the secret you say, how do I find the time. Try not to spend it all dying and hating my life. No I don’t. Ain’t no way! Ain’t no money for nothing but that seems to be the place where it goes. Go out and get yourself something, even if it’s only for show. Rip into it! Hack off a limb! They had it coming! Wrap it in tape, send it away. Be glad that it’s finally done in. Get out of the sun. Get into the shade. Get off of the junk. Get on with the rape. Hold all my calls there’s a knock on the door just round midnight. Ring! That’s not a knock. Hey pretty lady can I see you sometime in the daylight? Ehh. Cat found its claws somewhere in a drawer. I think it’s hungry. Finish it quick it’s making me sick. Don’t think that I can make it out of the tunnel. Blurf! Get off of my lawn. Get onto my tip. Get outta the cradle, and get back in your grave.

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from The Summer We All Bought Guns, released November 1, 2020

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