by Frank Balesteri & RSM
we come to celebrate
give a little tribute to
a most
crucial artform concept
something that admittedly is accepted
without analytical pigeonhole
yes yes y'all
in the mess hall
playing baseball
take a rest call
absence of color doesn't mean i'm gone
i'm cracked like cracker shoulda habit goin' on
should is wack and should is blight
it's blue music month but sure wound tight
for real though? and then some
get on with it, get off of it
sweatin a life at the moment of birth
i'm poisoned with sugar and the salt from the earth
by poppin the Q's i'm catchin' some wreck
already too transfused with the vein in your neck
we come to celebrate
white, that's right
i'm like a soft drink, i'm clear light
and i'm right and you can see me at night
that doesn't mean i'm right because we gotta fight
'cause we're white and we're part of a race
a word like race is cheese in your face
if you're naughty by nature, got mad das efx
i can be guilty as hell, i'm a pussy nervous rex
yes yes y'all
we're in there and then some
packaged to be played a gatt for a glott
i'm underneath your hood i'm on a round city block
i'm spliffin the dread i'm phillie the blunt
happy to go to the back of a front
let's not forget to remember
let's not forget to remember
let's not forget to remember
let's not forget to remember
i'm a needle in a pepsi, i'm a coke in your joint
i hope the plot to kill a brother don't you get the point?
i'm not a nazi skinhead or the kkk
or a group called should on donahue today
we come to celebrate
coulda shoulda woulda if i but
is all you been known to say
i'm sure you want that heapin pile of should
and a smell that keeps me away
i'm caught with my ideals showing again
i'm stuck in the traffic 'tween now and when
if i get out of hall way be my own best friend
and gimme a break i'm needin to bend
one rule i nearly i need to respect
is that everything's better in retrospect
i'm fritzin up my house in the past
i'm always running out of your gas
when i'm frightening i give you fear
when i'm lightning i give you beer (beer here)
when word is bond and your's on bail
we all make our own kind of jail
trace the footprints from the sky
your hand's full o' gimme and your head's full o' why
i'm like plastic, i'll never die
and that's the reason why you can't look me in the eye
i'm wearing red and i got the blues
it doesn't matter which color you choose
©1993 r.stevie moore/frank balesteri
as appears on
sequestered
unpopular singer vol. 3
more essential