lucanus pell the man frum hell .,.apocalyptic .,.other .,. rock .,. blues .,. funk .,. acoustic .,. hip hop .,. experimental .,. comedy .,. jazz .,.alternative
lost for an answer and still looking for the question;
my eyes weren't ready to see.
and vocal cords cannot afford to find the words i need,
i can scarce believe it possible that everyone agreed;
the lyrics don't exist, but i'll give yu the gist.,.
for who can hear such things and not feel the need to sing?
/i don't recall the recipe come what may it dont bother me
but this much i would have yu know;
people proving as they go;
just like yu, they simmer in the stew.
//i've always failed most graciously and even in july,
never once asking why; i would have done well to try.
if that's the way they remember me i'd rather be forgot,
chop me into pieces and then throw me in the pot
let me simmer in the stew,
this blend will be the end of you.
bubble to a boil before the sky's no longer blue.
///and the people in my head are running from the thoughts;
they climb above the common sense in fright.
but they won't get far in the twisted paths once i've turned out the lights,
they'll hafto take a left to make it right.
so i force them frum my mind like a joke i'll never get,
issued on the earth when the ocean wasn't wet.
