Animal food blues

I et anfall av jobbrelatert kreativitet (jada, jeg KJEDER MEG), kom jeg opp med denne teksten. Den er delvis selvbiografisk, og er ment til å være en seig blues.


Animal food blues

I make food for animals
I make food for dogs
I make bloody chickenfood
And bloody food for hogs
One time a cat came running
started licking my shoes
cause they smelled like fish
I got the animal food blues

Recognize the smell of whiskey
With a hint of beer
let animals be animals
and get me out of here

Everybody's got to eat and drink
and shout and scream and curse
and my life keeps dragging on
from lousy to the worse
When I think I've hit the bottom
I keep falling further down
I'm the fucking king of fools
I'm a freaking clown.

Recognize the smell of whiskey
With a hint of beer
let animals eat animals
and get me out of here.

I'd rather be a rockstar
than a rockstar wannabe.
And light the velvet nightsky,
and be the king of me.
But animals and assholes
keep forcing me to work
The easter-bloody-slavebunny
and it shurely hurts.

Recognize....

(jeg legger ut flere vers utover)