Mr. Calm

I had a profound meeting with Mr. Calm in the duty free
He looked at me seemingly gleaming and professed that there is no meaning
Taught me how to walk and how to climb on my ceiling
Felt a tooth crack
He told me there's no rhyme nor reason not to let the water bead upon on your back
A brief lesson in living you can garner from your local quack
Seedlings that continue to grow through pavement cracks
It seems to me that the hubris of man is back
It seems that the hubris of man is back
Calling a species illegal
Heathens speaking frequently but ultimately feeble
Wobbling but not falling down like a manically depressed Weebl
And bobbing for apples like I want myself to drown
I'm bobbing with a gusto that might make it seem like I want myself to drown
I remain your consciousness clown
A cosmic joke
Or was it gumbo?
Either way

It would be wise to keep that racket down and fill your pockets
Those motherfuckers run deep
Deeper than the marrow in your heart socket
Empty them when you sleep or you might end up with the fishes
At the bottom of the ocean doing my little dishes with fairy liquid and a strong brush
I'll make my way through it in my own time
I posses no need to rush
I'm taking things slow
A whistle is worth more than a million days of serenity
Lost in the deserted Serengeti seeking plenty
That Fenty sure looks savage
I push it back with my emotional baggage
I'm just trying to manage
I'm just trying to manage
I'm just trying to manage
I'm just trying to manage
And I manage the meaningless pretty fucking well, if you ask me

Sent my heart to be inspected via horse and carriage
Ink blot test unveiling my inner frink
A professor professing professionally that the pathos has reached its peak
I look down on you from over my beak but I promise I won't judge
Grin widely
Teeth stained with fudge
I'm just fucking tall
Titanic enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with Gaia by the garden wall
I'm whispering sweet nothings about everything and nothing at all
I'm whispering sweet nothings about everything and nothing at all
Sorry about it but I didn't slip so death decided not to call
My phone died a death for me and so
The reaper decided to screen my call
I'm sure he'll ring me back one day, though
From an unknown number in an abandoned public pay phone
Just for those wondering if it'd take it this far
I went to hell bought a "Wish you were here" postcard



Credits
Writer(s): Ant Lightfoot
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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