Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
My hair with homemade curls,
My makeup shines like pearls.
I'm just a baby, see,
Acting adult, maybe.
Bring napkins for wee-wee,
Ensure fun flows for free.
Tie me nappies for poo.
And bandage my boo-boo.
Baby guys will whistle,
Love – their own epistle.
While I sway my bum-bum,
Left to right like my mum.
Coocoo doodle I do,
Not every day I coo,
What Mum can do, I can –
My skin needs a sun tan.
No high-heeled shoes to wear,
I'd still swagger with flair.
I'm a baby with style,
Can't stop this cheeky smile.
Insanity is the clarity we all refuse to need
It's a fortress
Unbreakable
Impenetrable
Unfathomable
It's called sanity
We are told to think outside of the box
Our mind is herded
Controlled
If only we knew what treasures the box could hold
We were never in the box
The fortress
Sanity
Our freedom to think
Misguided
towards mental slavery
If you are in
Sanity
In
San
In the spiritual plain where your mind is truly free
And the pain of crazy is only in your mind
Even the smartest
And the best dressed
Can detest
How their mind is obsessed
With the singular opinions of the world
Why hate the insane when you are out of sanity’s gift
Why does Sane sound like a saint?
If i am insane
Am I in saint?
The saint?
In the state of mind where i can completely open up to the world
The woke awaken their third eye
But their 4th, 9th and 11th will remain blind
Let the pain of crazy cleans you
While some may call you coocoo
Insanity shows you what you do do
And directs you on what you should do
Break into insanity
Because thinking “outside the box”
Only gifts you vanity
Embrace the kiss of crazy
And dive into the world of insanity.
He died with a song buried in him
Not enough day light for him to realise his dreams
His lyrics made him soar through the skies
but reality has chopped his wings
A second ago they seemed to flow,
a second ago the thoughts seemed to roll
but then he galloped and choked on his words to death
his thoughts stuck behind his head
the lyrics and limericks were his company
his gift was his mellow heart
that roamed alone along the lands
as an young man with an old soul trapped within
fear walked him through misery and people said
here is the dead man walking
He once left his faith with his gods
whom he left in the far away lands
Under the lightening wrath god showered misery with his might
as a mere human beneath he held back with his will
Thor's hammer has hit him hard
he turned coocoo in his head
heaven knows that he will hit the dust with the rest
he kept singing gibberish as if no one is listening
He kept singing to those who would hear him
he kept singing he is a dead man walking
and yet he died with a song buried deep within him
They told me I should be dead
At least, that’s what the doctors said.
The doctors that are inside my head
No medicine necessary,
Sometimes I just like being crazy
Other times I do not.
I wait for the ticking of the clock
To check out of reality
I sway back and forth uncontrollably
Maybe I am crazy
Maybe I am not;
Have we enough time to figure it out on the clock?
I didn’t think so.
I began to fall,
Fall deeper and deeper into the black hole
Then suddenly, I couldn't see anymore
Am I crazy?
Maybe, maybe not
I guess I’ll find out one day, maybe
When I stop staring at the clock
Coocoo chacoo!
Well, you’d think a blithering idiot
got hold of my governor controls……..
You’d think Watt had never invented a throttle for my mouth
Of course, no one ever has, and doubts exists anyone could
ever muzzle me with a full head of righteous steam ready to blow.
Issues well, there are few civilization doesn’t seem in my mind
able to get a grip on without a damn good tongue lashing!
Like why does one faith think they’re “tapped” for heaven
and the rest of us peons are damned to hell?
How come some folks think skin color determines brain power
or sex determines ..any kind of power….oh yeah…
there’s a bit a steam coming out of my ears now!
The cogs in my cerebellum are spinning
like a pinwheel cracker on the fourth of July!
And how come there’s a surprise when kids raised
in a dictatorship school system come out
not being able to think for their self’s?
Yup, the lips are flappin’ and the eyes are buggin’ and
the soap box in Covent Gardens better watch out!
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