Out by the streets, where I made my home
I took out some cardboard and I made this poem
I looked out the window through the hole I just made
I set out my can to get my pennys for the day
I may not have a home
I have nowhere to go
All I have is a box, that I got from the docks
ANd I got to say, this really sucks
I saw a garbage truck
My box got picked up
I guess I'm out of luck
I tripped in a hole
Dug by a human mole
I got hit by a car
And I flew pretty far
I woke up
Mid Traffic Jam
My body was aching
Along came a change
I hiked up my pants
I was ready to go again
I ran far
And I ran far
I was determined to get back my box
I jumped out of a hole
And ran into a hole
But it didn't break my soul
And I managed to get away from the cops
I got to the dump
But then I was stumped
Where the hell could my box be?
In a pile of broken TV's
I found my stolen baby
And I found a few penny's that reminded me of me
I may not have a home
I have nowhere to go
All I have is a box, that I got from the docks
ANd I got to say, this really sucks
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This wild experimental artist from Chicago uses electric kazoos, tape loops, and more to craft far-out, wonderfully confounding songs. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 15, 2021