A Tribute to George Carlin. Excellent 1937-2008. 💔 --------------------------------- Listen up. We're gonna talk about the things you aren't supposed to hear. There’s a list of things they say you cannot say A little group of sounds to keep the wolves at bay They hide 'em in the basement, they lock 'em in a cage But every single one of 'em is livin' on the stage It’s a linguistic dance, a phonetic crime Give it to me straight, one syllable at a time. Shit, Piss, Fuck, and Cunt Cocksucker, Motherfucker, Tits right out front. Yeah, it’s rhythmic, it’s heavy... it’s the truth on the wire, Seven little sparks startin’ one big fire. Paced and steady, let the phonetics ring... It ain't about the dirt, it’s the song we sing. Now, "Shit" is just a state of mind, we’re knee-deep in the flow, And "Piss" is what the politicians do on all they know. "Fuck" is the big one, the heavy-weight champ, The "Cunt" is the thunder that follows the lamp. A "Cocksucker" grins while the "Motherfucker" pays, And "Tits" are just a garnish for the end of the days. Shit, Piss, Fuck, and Cunt. Cocksucker, Motherfucker, Tits right out front... Yeah, it’s rhythmic, it’s heavy... it’s the truth on the wire. Seven little sparks startin’ one big fire, Paced and steady, let the phonetics ring. It ain't about the dirt, it’s the song we sing. Seven words. Just sounds in the air. Why are you so afraid? Heh...
