Godburger Vagabond Gospel v2

Rock, Pop, Psychedelic rock white album with sampled voices talking

Title: Godburger Vagabond Gospel
(Intro – record scratch, distant church organ warped into 808s) (SKRRT) Yeah… Slim Shady just walked into a Bosch painting that did LSD with Billy Graham and a Happy Meal. Let’s go.
(Verse 1) Cracked-skull sky, red eyes leering like they’re billing me overtime Bikini demons twinkling on a fractured crown, that’s a felony in rhyme Titanic sinking subliminal in the middle of the frame, ice-cold Marilyn’s face built from every element, now she’s got the whole damn scene on hold Perky plastic tiddlywinks bounce like hell’s party balloons that never pop Gigantic rubber hands waving doom like they’re conducting the apocalypse hop Cyclops queen staring with one eye, beautiful but the depth perception’s a crime Ladies spread those assets, birth giant hands out they chests like it’s labor overtime Doctors in black, curious-looking, spreading that giant plastic vagabond for the crowd Welcome mats like thunder, ripe and ready, medical illustration screaming out loud (WHOOSH) English twenty-two vagabonds wallpapering the walls like it’s IKEA from heck Twinkling assets designing new doorways, every butte got a story to tell
(Chorus – call and response) Em: Who gaping across the whole damn canvas? Crowd: VAGABOND! Em: Who twinkling till the assets part ways? Crowd: ASSETS! Em: Who sipping soda like it’s Sunday brunch? Crowd: MARILYN! Em: Who preaching heckfire while the picture melts? Crowd: BILLY GRAHAM! (AIR HORN) All together: Godburger vagabond gospel, we ain’t going back!
(Verse 2) Picture melted by soda squirting out a giant beautiful woman’s butte Doctors holding them assets open like it’s an operating theater, what? Marilyn almost naked, laughing, sipping that green goo like it’s vintage wine Licking it off like cinnamon, rubbing it on the nibble, that’s a five-star dine Face covered in rubber dill pickles, sexy legs and assets everywhere you look LSD hitting so hard the walls breathing, Billy Graham’s ghost reading from the book “Repent you filthy wanderers!” he howls while the colors fractal and twist Titanic turning into a flesh tornado spinning out the smokestack, you get the gist Hallucinating doctors dancing red, Monroe’s laugh echoing through the storm Vagabonds rippling rainbow, new doorways designing themselves, losing all form I’m high as the chemtrails spelling “special message” across the sky This ain’t a song, this is a sermon that forgot how to die
(Chorus 2) Em: Who running on them nibble-dill-pickle legs? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who got pyramids made of stacked plastic breakfasts? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who screaming wider when the lightning hits? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who slipping on a desert of a billion biscuits? Crowd: GODBURGER! (BASS DROP) All: Milk volcanoes erupting, we drowning in the jest!
(Verse 3) Giant skull turned screaming hamburger head of God, ten patties thick Mouth so blubbery it could swallow the Titanic and still have room for a lick Nickels departed, formed one massive nibble that became his legs, he ran Through the sand on dill-pickle-nibble combo limbs, lightning said “you’re banned” Pyramids erupting fountains of milk like volcanoes that forgot they’re stone Desert made of billions of plastic breakfasts, people slipping, sliding, milk-bone Three-foot nibbles at first, then back to normal perky, crowd still trying to milk Folks running around with buckets like it’s the world’s friendliest silk Chemtrails writing secret messages, hamburger face sipping every nibble in sight Flesh-colored everything, David Lynch letterbox, black-and-white turning bright He slips, he slides, he screams, he preaches, he melts, he rebirths the whole scene From Bosch to burger to brimstone butte, this the wildest dream I’ve ever seen
(Final Chorus – bigger, crowd going nuts) Em: Who the face of God now? Crowd: HAMBURGER! Em: What’s the desert made of? Crowd: BREAKFASTS! Em: What’s coming out the pyramids? Crowd: MILK! Em: What’s he running on? Crowd: NIBBLE LEGS! (GUNSHOT + AIR HORN + RECORD SCRATCH) All: Godburger vagabond gospel, amen and pass the lube… I mean the juice box!
(Outro – spoken, beat fading, church organ dying) Yeah… if you made it this far without needing a dictionary, congratulations, you officially survived the sermon. (fading laugh, distant thunder, one last nibble pop) Slim Shady out. Don’t try this at home. Or in a desert. Or in a painting. Peace.

4390/7500

Title: Godburger Vagabond Gospel (Intro – record scratch, distant church organ warped into 808s) (SKRRT) Yeah… Slim Shady just walked into a Bosch painting that did LSD with Billy Graham and a Happy Meal. Let’s go. (Verse 1) Cracked-skull sky, red eyes leering like they’re billing me overtime Bikini demons twinkling on a fractured crown, that’s a felony in rhyme Titanic sinking subliminal in the middle of the frame, ice-cold Marilyn’s face built from every element, now she’s got the whole damn scene on hold Perky plastic tiddlywinks bounce like hell’s party balloons that never pop Gigantic rubber hands waving doom like they’re conducting the apocalypse hop Cyclops queen staring with one eye, beautiful but the depth perception’s a crime Ladies spread those assets, birth giant hands out they chests like it’s labor overtime Doctors in black, curious-looking, spreading that giant plastic vagabond for the crowd Welcome mats like thunder, ripe and ready, medical illustration screaming out loud (WHOOSH) English twenty-two vagabonds wallpapering the walls like it’s IKEA from heck Twinkling assets designing new doorways, every butte got a story to tell (Chorus – call and response) Em: Who gaping across the whole damn canvas? Crowd: VAGABOND! Em: Who twinkling till the assets part ways? Crowd: ASSETS! Em: Who sipping soda like it’s Sunday brunch? Crowd: MARILYN! Em: Who preaching heckfire while the picture melts? Crowd: BILLY GRAHAM! (AIR HORN) All together: Godburger vagabond gospel, we ain’t going back! (Verse 2) Picture melted by soda squirting out a giant beautiful woman’s butte Doctors holding them assets open like it’s an operating theater, what? Marilyn almost naked, laughing, sipping that green goo like it’s vintage wine Licking it off like cinnamon, rubbing it on the nibble, that’s a five-star dine Face covered in rubber dill pickles, sexy legs and assets everywhere you look LSD hitting so hard the walls breathing, Billy Graham’s ghost reading from the book “Repent you filthy wanderers!” he howls while the colors fractal and twist Titanic turning into a flesh tornado spinning out the smokestack, you get the gist Hallucinating doctors dancing red, Monroe’s laugh echoing through the storm Vagabonds rippling rainbow, new doorways designing themselves, losing all form I’m high as the chemtrails spelling “special message” across the sky This ain’t a song, this is a sermon that forgot how to die (Chorus 2) Em: Who running on them nibble-dill-pickle legs? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who got pyramids made of stacked plastic breakfasts? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who screaming wider when the lightning hits? Crowd: GODBURGER! Em: Who slipping on a desert of a billion biscuits? Crowd: GODBURGER! (BASS DROP) All: Milk volcanoes erupting, we drowning in the jest! (Verse 3) Giant skull turned screaming hamburger head of God, ten patties thick Mouth so blubbery it could swallow the Titanic and still have room for a lick Nickels departed, formed one massive nibble that became his legs, he ran Through the sand on dill-pickle-nibble combo limbs, lightning said “you’re banned” Pyramids erupting fountains of milk like volcanoes that forgot they’re stone Desert made of billions of plastic breakfasts, people slipping, sliding, milk-bone Three-foot nibbles at first, then back to normal perky, crowd still trying to milk Folks running around with buckets like it’s the world’s friendliest silk Chemtrails writing secret messages, hamburger face sipping every nibble in sight Flesh-colored everything, David Lynch letterbox, black-and-white turning bright He slips, he slides, he screams, he preaches, he melts, he rebirths the whole scene From Bosch to burger to brimstone butte, this the wildest dream I’ve ever seen (Final Chorus – bigger, crowd going nuts) Em: Who the face of God now? Crowd: HAMBURGER! Em: What’s the desert made of? Crowd: BREAKFASTS! Em: What’s coming out the pyramids? Crowd: MILK! Em: What’s he running on? Crowd: NIBBLE LEGS! (GUNSHOT + AIR HORN + RECORD SCRATCH) All: Godburger vagabond gospel, amen and pass the lube… I mean the juice box! (Outro – spoken, beat fading, church organ dying) Yeah… if you made it this far without needing a dictionary, congratulations, you officially survived the sermon. (fading laugh, distant thunder, one last nibble pop) Slim Shady out. Don’t try this at home. Or in a desert. Or in a painting. Peace.

0/500