It's Sunshine, It's Not Givin a Fuck

the sky is green
and Russia's invading
the pigeons are talking
i'll ride my giraffe to work
the elephants are calling
on the big red gramophone
the fireworks imploding
on 6-inch cyber cones
we are laughing, joking
pop testing to a positive
charge of ion flow
and the purple lights flash glow

i want to know
i want to know
what makes us click
makes us trip
over the wires
and down the cliff
falling away from me
floating back to me now
i want to know
i want to know

our hair is locked
matted to a billow
our knees are scabbed
with yesterday's peanut-butter
the Russians are screaming
and we let them gleam
their guns their guns their guns
in the District at dusk
the mammoth tusks
stuck through our septums
the mammoth drums
are thumping strong

i want to know
i want to know
what makes us click
makes us trip
over the wires
and down the cliff
falling away from me
floating back to me now
i want to know
i want to know

we are rooted in beat
beatings on the ground
beatings in the sound
sounds ground round and round
here comes the Russians
here comes the elephants
here comes the donkeys
and they all look the same
we're laughing clouds
to unhinge the mountains
the sky is green
and Russia's invading
and we don't give a fuck

what makes us click
makes us trip
over the wires
and down the cliff
falling away from it all
floating back over it all
the termites eat through the wall
"the lunatic is in the hall"
i beg him come in a while
maybe for a long while
the sky is green
and Russia's invading
the pigeons are talking
and we're walking with giraffes.