“81” Poop Hatch
🎵 2614 characters
⏱️ 2:39 duration
🆔 ID: 18062546
📜 Lyrics
My eyes are burnt and bleeding and all that looks like
a monkey on a silver bar …
big poop hatch with a cotton hatch â€" hatch holes
that the light shows in and the light shows out …
and the little red fence …
and the wire and the wood …
and the barbs and the berries …
and the tires and the bottles and the caruponrims …
and the heat swims on its fenders and the dust collects
and the rust of autumn surrenders into gold …
trumpet poop on the ground with peanuts its bell was
blocking an ant's vision …
and the mice played in its air holes and valves …
a ladybug crawled off its mouthpiece standing out red
and blacked its wings and blew off to a flower …
its hum heard just above the ground …
black dots were hung in what turned out to be an olive
tree that originally held a tree house full of a building
with one small window …
birds and broken glass and tiny bits of newspaper …
"My sun is free from the window," said the god the green dabbers …
rice wires mouse tins and milk muffins …
cereal and stone …
matches and masks and mace and clubs …
and splintered shaft light intrigues a cricket on a dust jeweled penlet …
cobwebs collect down plaster run into a hole and find
collected glass that drinks the reflection of midday
afternoon midway between telegraph lines …
a silver wing â€" a cloud â€" a rumbling of a cloud …
a crowd of various violins strum from next door through
my wall into my ear obviously artificial …
neighbors laugh through sandwiches …
Harlem babies â€" their stomachs explode into roars …
their eyes shiny with starvation …
spreckled hula dance on my phonograph …
my door rattles windy …
sand wears my rug shoe and taps on the unheard finish
of an hourglass I cannot hear …
a typical musician's nest of thoughts filter through dust speakers …
"Why don't you go home? Oh Blobby,
are you great," exclaims two lips in some jumbled rock
‘n' roll tune and wears a spot I cannot scratch …
the surface of a friend …
this high book a friend laid on me …
on the couch relaxing in the corner behind a still
life pond with plenty of bugs and lily pads slurred
in mud banks and boulders tin cans and raisins warped by thought …
strain on the spoon like a wheat check â€" check Bif
â€" cotton popping out of his sleeve …
poop hatch open â€" big poop hatch with a cotton hatch
â€" hatch holes â€" got to pick up the horns …
but the head won't move until it walks
a monkey on a silver bar …
big poop hatch with a cotton hatch â€" hatch holes
that the light shows in and the light shows out …
and the little red fence …
and the wire and the wood …
and the barbs and the berries …
and the tires and the bottles and the caruponrims …
and the heat swims on its fenders and the dust collects
and the rust of autumn surrenders into gold …
trumpet poop on the ground with peanuts its bell was
blocking an ant's vision …
and the mice played in its air holes and valves …
a ladybug crawled off its mouthpiece standing out red
and blacked its wings and blew off to a flower …
its hum heard just above the ground …
black dots were hung in what turned out to be an olive
tree that originally held a tree house full of a building
with one small window …
birds and broken glass and tiny bits of newspaper …
"My sun is free from the window," said the god the green dabbers …
rice wires mouse tins and milk muffins …
cereal and stone …
matches and masks and mace and clubs …
and splintered shaft light intrigues a cricket on a dust jeweled penlet …
cobwebs collect down plaster run into a hole and find
collected glass that drinks the reflection of midday
afternoon midway between telegraph lines …
a silver wing â€" a cloud â€" a rumbling of a cloud …
a crowd of various violins strum from next door through
my wall into my ear obviously artificial …
neighbors laugh through sandwiches …
Harlem babies â€" their stomachs explode into roars …
their eyes shiny with starvation …
spreckled hula dance on my phonograph …
my door rattles windy …
sand wears my rug shoe and taps on the unheard finish
of an hourglass I cannot hear …
a typical musician's nest of thoughts filter through dust speakers …
"Why don't you go home? Oh Blobby,
are you great," exclaims two lips in some jumbled rock
‘n' roll tune and wears a spot I cannot scratch …
the surface of a friend …
this high book a friend laid on me …
on the couch relaxing in the corner behind a still
life pond with plenty of bugs and lily pads slurred
in mud banks and boulders tin cans and raisins warped by thought …
strain on the spoon like a wheat check â€" check Bif
â€" cotton popping out of his sleeve …
poop hatch open â€" big poop hatch with a cotton hatch
â€" hatch holes â€" got to pick up the horns …
but the head won't move until it walks
⏱️ Synced Lyrics
[00:00.26] My eyes are burnt and bleeding and all that looks like
[00:03.06] a monkey on a silver bar …
[00:04.75] big poop hatch with a cotton hatch â€" hatch holes
[00:06.91] that the light shows in and the light shows out …
[00:09.38] and the little red fence …
[00:11.42] and the wire and the wood …
[00:13.09] and the barbs and the berries …
[00:14.73] and the tires and the bottles and the caruponrims …
[00:18.02] and the heat swims on its fenders and the dust collects
[00:21.37] and the rust of autumn surrenders into gold …
[00:23.49] trumpet poop on the ground with peanuts its bell was
[00:27.00] blocking an ant's vision …
[00:29.41] and the mice played in its air holes and valves …
[00:31.62] a ladybug crawled off its mouthpiece standing out red
[00:36.32] and blacked its wings and blew off to a flower …
[00:39.30] its hum heard just above the ground …
[00:42.19] black dots were hung in what turned out to be an olive
[00:44.36] tree that originally held a tree house full of a building
[00:47.76] with one small window …
[00:50.84] birds and broken glass and tiny bits of newspaper …
[00:54.01] "My sun is free from the window," said the god the green dabbers …
[00:57.77] rice wires mouse tins and milk muffins …
[01:01.21] cereal and stone …
[01:03.52] matches and masks and mace and clubs …
[01:06.05] and splintered shaft light intrigues a cricket on a dust jeweled penlet …
[01:10.54] cobwebs collect down plaster run into a hole and find
[01:15.21] collected glass that drinks the reflection of midday
[01:18.65] afternoon midway between telegraph lines …
[01:22.58] a silver wing â€" a cloud â€" a rumbling of a cloud …
[01:25.33] a crowd of various violins strum from next door through
[01:29.76] my wall into my ear obviously artificial …
[01:32.55] neighbors laugh through sandwiches …
[01:35.99] Harlem babies â€" their stomachs explode into roars …
[01:38.12] their eyes shiny with starvation …
[01:40.56] spreckled hula dance on my phonograph …
[01:43.77] my door rattles windy …
[01:45.95] sand wears my rug shoe and taps on the unheard finish
[01:49.26] of an hourglass I cannot hear …
[01:51.80] a typical musician's nest of thoughts filter through dust speakers …
[01:55.07] "Why don't you go home? Oh Blobby,
[01:58.23] are you great," exclaims two lips in some jumbled rock
[02:02.40] ‘n' roll tune and wears a spot I cannot scratch …
[02:06.37] the surface of a friend …
[02:08.65] this high book a friend laid on me …
[02:11.33] on the couch relaxing in the corner behind a still
[02:14.11] life pond with plenty of bugs and lily pads slurred
[02:18.55] in mud banks and boulders tin cans and raisins warped by thought …
[02:23.31] strain on the spoon like a wheat check â€" check Bif
[02:26.37] â€" cotton popping out of his sleeve …
[02:28.91] poop hatch open â€" big poop hatch with a cotton hatch
[02:31.56] â€" hatch holes â€" got to pick up the horns …
[02:34.38] but the head won't move until it walks
[02:37.29]
[00:03.06] a monkey on a silver bar …
[00:04.75] big poop hatch with a cotton hatch â€" hatch holes
[00:06.91] that the light shows in and the light shows out …
[00:09.38] and the little red fence …
[00:11.42] and the wire and the wood …
[00:13.09] and the barbs and the berries …
[00:14.73] and the tires and the bottles and the caruponrims …
[00:18.02] and the heat swims on its fenders and the dust collects
[00:21.37] and the rust of autumn surrenders into gold …
[00:23.49] trumpet poop on the ground with peanuts its bell was
[00:27.00] blocking an ant's vision …
[00:29.41] and the mice played in its air holes and valves …
[00:31.62] a ladybug crawled off its mouthpiece standing out red
[00:36.32] and blacked its wings and blew off to a flower …
[00:39.30] its hum heard just above the ground …
[00:42.19] black dots were hung in what turned out to be an olive
[00:44.36] tree that originally held a tree house full of a building
[00:47.76] with one small window …
[00:50.84] birds and broken glass and tiny bits of newspaper …
[00:54.01] "My sun is free from the window," said the god the green dabbers …
[00:57.77] rice wires mouse tins and milk muffins …
[01:01.21] cereal and stone …
[01:03.52] matches and masks and mace and clubs …
[01:06.05] and splintered shaft light intrigues a cricket on a dust jeweled penlet …
[01:10.54] cobwebs collect down plaster run into a hole and find
[01:15.21] collected glass that drinks the reflection of midday
[01:18.65] afternoon midway between telegraph lines …
[01:22.58] a silver wing â€" a cloud â€" a rumbling of a cloud …
[01:25.33] a crowd of various violins strum from next door through
[01:29.76] my wall into my ear obviously artificial …
[01:32.55] neighbors laugh through sandwiches …
[01:35.99] Harlem babies â€" their stomachs explode into roars …
[01:38.12] their eyes shiny with starvation …
[01:40.56] spreckled hula dance on my phonograph …
[01:43.77] my door rattles windy …
[01:45.95] sand wears my rug shoe and taps on the unheard finish
[01:49.26] of an hourglass I cannot hear …
[01:51.80] a typical musician's nest of thoughts filter through dust speakers …
[01:55.07] "Why don't you go home? Oh Blobby,
[01:58.23] are you great," exclaims two lips in some jumbled rock
[02:02.40] ‘n' roll tune and wears a spot I cannot scratch …
[02:06.37] the surface of a friend …
[02:08.65] this high book a friend laid on me …
[02:11.33] on the couch relaxing in the corner behind a still
[02:14.11] life pond with plenty of bugs and lily pads slurred
[02:18.55] in mud banks and boulders tin cans and raisins warped by thought …
[02:23.31] strain on the spoon like a wheat check â€" check Bif
[02:26.37] â€" cotton popping out of his sleeve …
[02:28.91] poop hatch open â€" big poop hatch with a cotton hatch
[02:31.56] â€" hatch holes â€" got to pick up the horns …
[02:34.38] but the head won't move until it walks
[02:37.29]