Mr. Bungle - Quote Unquote

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All behold the spectacle

A fleshy limbless rectangle

Sitting on a pedestal

So nasal handicapable



Contortions that he can't recall

Sniff and remember silver ball

The torso on a trampoline

The happiness melts into dream

To talk is an enunciated sneeze

To tatse is some foul air to breathe





One thought, it lasts a day

And at that rate - he'll most likely live forever!!!!!!!!!!

He's a bird in flight, a hermaphrodite



And he fucks himself as he fucks the world

His twitching brain can dance within

A secret means of ecstasy

Gyrating more like gelatin

Acute and very olfactory

To see is colors crawling in the nose



To hear is stinking highs and lows



He's got an itch, but nothing with which

To scratch the itch - so wish it away



With his mouth sewn shut, he still shakes his butt

'cause he's Hitler & Swayze & Trump & Travolta



Smell. Sweat. Movement.

Disco.

Everyone's dancing.

Dimple.

Fading. Darker.

A subtle fragrance.

Faint.

Everyone's dancing without him.

Where did it go?

Dark.

Odorless.

Nothing

														   

														   











		
			



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