Old school Playing a groove of the used to Small few Hailed by hipsters and still cool Lo-fi

I have no tricks. I have no sleeves. I have only me. And that’s enough.

Let me make Home for you That rivals Kathmandu Hugs, kisses

I like pretty girls With really tight curls That know how to dance and move me They gyrate and flex And downright perplex

Elaborate mazes Of conjured phrases Tickle the ear Of literary peers But don’t read the type

Hannah Banana With the flower bandana Look at your garden grow With tender leaves And shoots of peas

Fumbling in the dark Searching for my clothes Looking for a girl With my third eye closed

You create yourself Then see better solutions Cue evolution

You’re the bestest bud Anyone could love And your soul shines through All the doom and gloom Fortunate to have

I think I’ve found the reason why I threw my gut instincts aside You had a crazy, fucked up song You made me sing I knew was wrong But now, thank God, I’ve seen the…

Sometimes I will stare You’re just more interesting Than others in sight

I’d like to see Some more of you But only if You think that’s cool If you would want

You’re nineteen You can choose who to be Nineteen Maybe fancy and free Nineteen

The Earth is my Mother The Heavens my Dad I love my Father But I’m a Momma’s boy at heart