Funeral Strut - Po' Boy On a Fat Tuesday
Hey there, little Buddha,
Let me join your Mistick Krewe.
Got my jazz hand clapping.
Gonna drop the other shoe.
I strut my yo-yo yoga every doo-da day.
It get me so-so-sober in a drunken way.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Voodoo me some déjà vu.
Those saints are marching in again;
Another Bourbon Street debut.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Save me from my karma’s wrath.
Calculate my blessings;
Maybe you can do the math.
So many numb-numb-numbers,
Couldn’t feel my way.
To get me near Nirvana,
Need a CPA.
Hey there little Buddha,
Lead me down the garden path.
Those saints are here to party, boy.
This Mardi Gras make ‘em laugh.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Send your children out to play.
Pranayama mama,
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
I'll chant my man-oh-mantra
Till my eardrums ache
And clear my cha-cha chakras
With a plumber’s snake.
Hey there little Buddha,
Second line come first today.
Those saints will set your flag on fire.
Jockomo feena nay.
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