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You can call it what you want but I don’t know,
Why the things in your garden, why they grow,
You can call me if you want,
But I don’t know if I’ll pick up the phone

I cut that photo from a Marxist magazine,
And I took my pens and added yellow, blue and green,
I wish there was an easy way to make this photo,
Just a bit more interesting, interesting, interesting

This week goes by much too, much too quick,
I thought examples would let some of my ideas stick,
But (like my idols) it’s been written with love,
And it’s been sealed with a kick, sealed with a kick

Monday morning won’t let me go back to sleep,
Telling me what I can and cannot believe,
Maybe a handgun will be my last chance,
To make that existential leap

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