Bonnie (with Brinks & Zach King-Smith)

It's not a song about sex
It's not a song about loving the earth
It's not a song about dreams
It's not a song of wallow and hurt

It's a song about chickens
It's a song about eggs
It's a song about omelets
As the sum of our mistakes

Ah ha ha
Ah hoo ha
Ah ha ha
Ooo-ooh ooh

I dreamt that the earth lost her tolerance for humanity
And decided to rid herself of the plague
Which she pledged to protect millions of years ago
But she became enraged and disgusted with what she saw around her
And parted her lips, and opened her mouth, which I imagined
Looked like a broken fault in the concrete of Los Angeles
It engulfed hundreds of businessmen and their briefcases in their cars
Which covered the streets and filled their lungs with smog and sicknesses in Newark
And in Newark, waves crashed down from the Atlantic and washed away the pestilence
Lukewarm
And the crack, and the whorehouses which lined thousands of streets in the USA
In the sun
She opened her eyes on New York and looked compassionately for her daughter
Lukewarm
The rain which now covered her eyes
Covered in flies
Swept up everyone on the street
Lukewarm
And cleansed as she did in Newark
The summit of your demise
No one was saved
The parents had been devoured in the hours
And dreams rewarded her fury
I had seen the purging of humanity everywhere
And became jealous because I
Will never rid myself of this disease
That is Zach, our poet
He's uh, he's pretty fantastic, I think
Selective Anatomy, are you ready?
No