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A strange look into the mind of the mad.
artist chicago spoken word poet minnesota duluth slam poetry bsg the bsg brandon st germaine
Spoken word slam ego-poet with rap influences and Modest Mouse esque theology
The BSG is a 3 foot tall white Duluth Minnesotain kid with more mouth than a 3 foot tall white kid should have. Ego-poet, concept artist, spoken word influentialist, activist, and comedian, BSG tells it like it is.
Song Info
Genre
Podcasts • Poetry
Charts
Peak #44
Peak in subgenre #13
Author
BSG
Rights
Zentatsu
Uploaded
February 26, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 1.3 MB • 128 kbps • 1:24
Story behind the song
Completely sober, I wrote this song in an interesting mood. Take it as you will.
Lyrics
File, New I start a letter to you. Dear Ashley, No wait Francis I mean Laura. I’m drunk. But the cigarettes don’t taste any better I’m giving up the habit Of midnight Microsoft Word Letters. This ones the last Cold turkey at last I’m gonna hang myself at half mast. Erica We weren’t exactly friends But when I fell over foaming at the mouth You kissed it. Like the tramp-whore you were before your breast reduction I am finally too intoxicated to feel the penis Between my legs. Are those my legs? Silhouette. Silhouette. Seen you wet. Minuet across my mind You sing like a tumor and drink like a bank account Sheryl I’m feeling feral Like I’ve got a viral disease Don’t sneeze I don’t wanna get cancer Violence isn’t the answer But you crossed your arms I crossed my heart and got just what I was wishing for- I’m high. Or not high, pick and choose. Backspace, Backspace, Backspace I don’t want people to know that about me Calico Cat makes me feel flat Do I need bigger breasts? I don’t know Green will never again mean go Because puke on a midnight monitor make me Enter Enter Enter Sicker.
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