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Dreamuhh the Preview

(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay

Fortunate Son

I started writing this song at a Mars Volta show, got about 8 bars, and finished the rest and recorded it on my phone tonight (11/25/25). It's got 43 lines, one for each year I've been alive.

°lyrics°

I don't wanna be no king
I'd make a better jester
Professor emeritus 
Pressed for breath like a protester

Veteran baring all of his 
teeth eating Excedrin
sharing sins with vixens drippin estrogen 
feminine and venomous

Bending to the end with it
A predicate for a clever kid
Wrecking a record to settle the devil I'm 
Blessed forever and better when nimble

automatic emphatic static
Erratic so addicts laugh at my antics
Crack codes with an axe pick
Hit a quick hat trick like Sakic and ad lib with a triple backflip cuz I'm a rat bastard with a knack for slapstick

Always moving past it never looking backwards
Never examining the damage just can't handle it, pass first head to 
second second guessing every breath and lesson presses heavi
er until you bend or break from shaking, and the sacredness deflates 

Breaking thru the gates of hell or heaven hell or heaven never settled so I keep the peace between them like a sentinel 
Eyeball you with my retinal
Trained upon your ventricles
Better eat your vegetables

You should 2nd guess steppin in my general direction
Does my vocal inflection evade detection?
Does my hopefulness invoke an emotion that's perplexing?
Is this all a joke or should I focus on the rope a dope

The road forked and I took the path of least resistance
Simply interested in is sitting with a synonym for bliss
Sun kissed and loving who I run with
Never having to question the what ifs
Or the distance at which love hits 

Splitting the differences on one inch of hubris
It's hubris you stooge I'm getting iggy with the club hits
I reminisce, and simmer while swimming in the undulates
Wondering nothing because I've accepted my own nothingness

I need 7 more lines to make this rhyme divine 
And in line with my own cycles and time lines
I said lines thrice but now we gotta count the 4
Open up the door cuz I can't take this achy breaky back no more

I'm passing on the torch
I'm scratching on the floor
And crashing on the porch

lil piñon

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