Some day I'll have my own Ideas
and I'll be Original
not jumping up and down like Mike-
my own Individual
and you won't find me Vice-bound
by Consumerism
or hanging by the thread of a Fad or clung
to the throw-backs smellin' the funk
of my Residualism
or hanging out the window of an
owed-on automobile
trying to put up a front like
I'm Gold
to a woman who is painted in a
stolen glow and clothed
in garments she took from
Fred Sanford's store
smelling like she just got off of a
fishing boat
where we see feces
she's got under her nails
it'll make you choke and then
I won't need to tell you
that I'm no joke my Friend
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