Simple Machines

from by Murder By Scooter

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lyrics

If we can build a ping pong table / From a slab of wood in your uncle's garage / Then I believe we can forge ourselves a suture / To block out the sun if we get too hot / The kids scream, 'boy, this summer's been a bummer!' / You could squeeze the tension out into cups / Sell it to your neighbors and make a few bucks / Just as long as you give a few fucks / And I've been trying real hard to sit alone in my room / Tickling my gall to write something for you / All I've got are some shit poems and a bass guitar /
So if I called you on the phone, would you review me thus far? / Looks like I'm a three-star kind of guy / Gimp slice on an apple pie / And as for you, well, I saw you in my dream once / Oh, wait, I think I saw you whip my cream once / Next year, I think I'll thrash around like it's the 1990s / The very clothes on my body won't define me / Yeah, and you won't ever find me / And my fear is that you'll wish me luck on my next endeavor / And that they'll never, ever, ever find me clever / I'm a simple machine, man, pull my lever! / If a chair is down a leg, it ain't stable / We'll throw it to the back of your uncle's garage / For all the other boys who pick and pull, all the looters / One man's trash is another's mirage / The kids scream, 'boy, we've had a ball this fall!' / You could pack your bags and head off to class / Write a scrap of wisdom as the door hits your ass / And reap the presents from your barren, old past / And what I've gathered thus far is I'm attracted to doom / Greasing my gears, I'm rusted by you / All I've got is a good poem and a bass guitar / So should I take to the city in a boxcar? / Next year, I think I'll thrash around like it's the 1990s / The very clothes on my body won't define me / Yeah, and you won't ever find me / And my fear is that you'll wish me luck on my next endeavor / And that they'll never, ever, ever find me clever / I'm a simple machine, man, pull my lever! / I'm thick / Can't get my mind off this chick / What she's doing is making me sick / Make it quick, and kill me! / But that's just girls, / Them with their curls / And their discomfort on tilt-a-whirls / This here's a team, grab a microphone and scream, / 'We are all simple machines!' / We are all simple machines, / We are all simple machines, / We are all simple machines, / We are all simple machines

credits

from Overzealous!, released May 11, 2013

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Murder By Scooter Harrison, New York

Ska punk/reggae rock out of Purchase, NY!

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