Gun For The Whole Family Songtext / Lyric

GUN FOR THE

WHOLE FAMILY

• a.r. • before shooting troops was cooler than hula hoops high noon was

your basic whoʼs who of brutal truth, hot summer gun or box-cutter slow

dance, turn a youngʼn to a dozen paper dolls holding hands, and tricky

was a wooden horse pushed up on your porch so chicanery was yours to

engage or ignore, i was on the latter but a lot adopt pawns, so we carried

lawn chairs and buckets of popcorn, pass the popcorn, brawl fair, cop car,

voyeur hawk him out his hinges, storm door splinters, clamoring about,

hammers out about to ring, infiltrate each others tribes and murder each

others queens, packed to the very last rafter, clung to the rafts and the

cameras to capture the damage, neck swivel with a chomp chomp volley

where the ants leave nothing but the bones and the car keys, pardon if his

two feet fester, it was rude of me people, meet left and lefter, planted like

a model of civility and honor for the sector, but never got his extra extra,

peace for the better but it wasnʼt entertaining, so they waited for the tazing

from the safety of his haven, like bees to the honey when they lumped you

up, cuz bumper cars are only funny when they bump. know that.






• el-p • tune to hellemundo for action packed blasphemy, big city translate your face

ʻtil it atrophies, i let the shadenfrued boy out actually, deployed to void with grin to

watch laughingly, (yeah bitch) pass the pʼs itʼs a laugh in, i can smell the tragedy

when hatchinʼ, happily dispassionately patched in, alive with the menace of demise

like “yes!” the pain dazzles men, pass the popcorn, pass the popcorn itʼs reality at

its fastest, and yet it still unravels at a pace like molasses, i guess the last of the

seconds before the worst of disasters stretch past us, wouldnʼt you agree that it is

fabulous? in the corridors of entropies wars contort drastically tilted fits, i adjust

to climates of the wilderness, walk along my spine take the pilgrimage, up in to the

section thatʼs reserved for the smirk of the coldest wintnesess, work you mother-

fuckers (hooray!), thereʼs all day to die, innovate the mayhem with grace, the good-

form-fall, fuck if iʼm ʻa warn yʼall, nah... i got the front row to the greatest entertain-

ment that an angel never saw, sixty thousand watts of that raw “pull the claw out of

the trunk” fun, each one teach one how to club one, look at how they bathe up in

the dove blood, itʼs gonna be a night of thrills and chills where the sacred is made

of mud mud.



• a.r. • it was a lazy day, it was amazing grace, it was a half-a-

dozen claymores daisy-chained, it wasnʼt daisies and crazy

eights, it was an ace of spades over a waiting game of slaves

and saints, and every trainee face-painted while his great

escape grazed and ate, heʼll never make it, when he aims he

shakes, and i was overly engrossed from a very locked door

with a couple milk duds and buckets of popcorn, pass the

popcorn, clap clap, encore, monkey in the middle study how

the bunker took the missiles, age of machines with nary a green

screen, so the hecatomb is every bit as cutty as it seems, i

could tell the pet from the vet, money where his canineʼs spread

and never welched on a bet, that said, know the over-under

on your local hunter and youʼll profit off his widow-makerʼs

numbers every summer, bump in the night, funny, will he catch

and release ʻem? has he mercy, will he hack em to pieces? is he

dirty, will he hassle policeman and security breach until impuri-

ties leak over the circuitry? and nada milk and honey there is

only skulls and bunnies, that hop around drunk in the land of a

hundred mondays, god damn, pop the redenbacher proper and

for christʼs sake get this man a doctor.