(Original post date from Frankenberry’s Attic @ Blogspot: 06-16-19)
In my last post here, song-wise, I mentioned tilting at windmills. That unflinching Quixote-esque need to wail at and fight against whatever it is that you feel needs be wailing at and fought against. Well, it continues …
Tricking The Whole
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
To keep their minds from wondering
What the truth knows
I’m filling the gaps marking all that I say
With prop-a-ganda being way
To sell truth now
And it’s really heady matter for elites I lie
For a fake press I lie
The haters cry
But see my dog base blinding there who loyally lap at my feet
Never finding truth crumbs on the floor
I’m painting bona fide in a red white and blue
My fingers make confusing swirls
Till you let go
Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh
(succumb you will in time)
Hey Hey Hey….Hey
And hey batter batter batter
Swing and miss my man, can’t hit this pitch you can’t
Not this big spin
I’m on the mound base is the crowd
They pay no mind they are fact free
See how they’re wowed by my huge back door curve
I never take time to study the things that were important yesterday
They don’t matter now
Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh
Hey Hey
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
It gets my mind to wandering ’bout new royals Ohhhh
Who we could own owwwwnnn
I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King
My mind is always floundering
In a dark hole…in a dark whole
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