Nobody put baby in a corner

In the blue light, I deny you

Why ask if you're alright

When I'm still crumpled up behind you

All publicity

Stint

My growth is altered

I want love

You

i don't know how

To

I am a monster

I am a monster

Joel

I am a monster

Make me feel

Holy lighti

I divide my lifht

Between

Divine

And

Denial

So I deny it

Denial

I hide you

Why

Cause I like you

Let's blow things all out of proportion

Media media

Publicity stunt

And a drunken stupor

I got my God at Coachella night one

I got my blinders on

I got a knife in my pocket

A1 steak sauce anyone

Well done, Harper

Well done, Onyx

Now where goes the dolomite!

Lodestones

I lost one

Carry on

Four kings

My stream of conciousness rocks out

My people are earth and your people

You see that?

Reach out

I'm only a comic, comet

Reach out!

I'm in denial

No conciousness

Alright? Harper

Long road

High Road

Short ones.

You like

Tall blondes

I like

Waffles

You know?

Can't we all suffer morbidly?

(I'm in denial)

Write one

Right one

Higher up off the red carpet

I'm looking for something?

Nothing,

Internet shopping,

A long road

The more would have I

The more horrible

I am a monster

I am a monster

I am a monster

Devil next door, and I

I am a monster

I am a monster

And one

And one

And one

I sent an angel

Or five

I'm a monster

I'm in denial

I am a monster

Bloody conciousness

I'm in denial

So I deny

Monster

So I deny it all

Encore! Encore!

Run the score up

Could be anything you know

Bloody stream of conciousness

Bloody streams and

—leave it up, then

I do not believe it

Pandemic,

Actors and then

Publicity stunts for nothing

Robbers.

I'm not even good enough to be good enough for you.

Morbid.

I made Billie Ellish laugh so hard,

The whole world noticed;

Then everybody wanted to know me,

Numbers,

She goes,

“I love electronic music”

I said,

“I have a lot of it.”

But I thought

Not nearly enough of it,

I thought

Not nearly enough, I think.

Not nearly enough

What did you do with six cinder blocks

And

Stop it

What did you do with six bricks

And a fortune

What do you with with my

Headache?

Stop it?

I want nothing more than an encore,

I told them

An encore, I said

Not the Renaissance

Encore

I promise:

As awkward as it all got

It's coming up

For once my stream of conciousness

Is into something

Lover lover lover

Keep them coming

Roll the dice and

Tell me something, Schubert

Tell me something, Harvard

Tell me something

Tell me something

Science

Why I don't like you

I watch the tonight show.

I try to find you

But find her

And her and her

At night I dream of him

Joel

Her

And her and her

Wanted a lover

A show

Her and her and her

A son and a daughter

A mode

Her and her and her

Here and there and on again

I know her and her and her

I like

Her and her and her

I love

Her and her and her

I know her and her and her

I am her and her and her

I wonder what would become of us

All

And the body

Were we not so old

Scrap metal

Carry on while I call my son

And wonder what in God

Was left after us

Hostile motive

Wonder wonder

I've got nothing left to ponder

I want

Mark

God

Dawn

Nah

Nothing kept secret left

Ponder what, helmet

Tell you what, Talmud

I like the host of the what's it called

Danger show

Brothel

Brothel

Opera

Opera

May Day May Day

May is coming

So I August

I want nothing more

Than the great big mouse on magic mountain

How's that?

…

Sam?

Flatline?

Don't leave us.

Encore.

Where's he going?

Nothing.

Awful.

I've been drinking.

How about not?

And well, we're all against the tide when ocean's coming

Aren't I, Hollywood?

Great big swell and a sailboat

Ugh, why am I mad?!

That's the old goat!

Rock and Roller.

Hall of fame god.

Prostitots and brothels

Some chord and three thousand year old Google documents

What you want us!

All I was worth was

A special on

$200, just under

What did you want?

An umbrella?

I told you, the shit show was coming now

Cry me a river!

Cry me a river!

Cry me a river!

New York was a sold out show

In all non concious conformists

Look at God Go.

I was all at the surface

Sure you wanted a Harper

A harpist

Pianist and

I've got suffering!

Call my son back!

I've got window pains

And window panes

And widows makes the none of us

I might as well have died when I lost

I might as well have died when I lost her

— oh, but the husband had already had

Her and her and her

So no father was he to a daughter

And she went beyond that,

Calling for brother.

Now who are I?

Emotionally immature maggots.

I sank ships over hatred

I called mayday belatedly

I show off in Morse code in a mouse head

Now who's the helmet!!

Now who's the—

[BLACKOUT]

[The Festival Project ™]

Jimmy murmured somethin bout Joel

Pilot took a plunge

Now the old Rock is 1 for the 1 one

Minus President Trump

In the back of the car

But if I pop the trunk

Then we all have a gun in each hand,

Huh punk?

One for the road

Bottle full of sauce

I called the boss for the map

And we all got lost on the run

Interstate map as old as

The all of us totaled up

What does infinite cost?

Two humps and a Tesla?

Some hummas?

A couple of rocks, and some hot sauce?

All got a gun

And we all got a God

Can't we all get along

Backroads, no Feds

So it's all gonna cost

Got a cot for the tour

And a word for the world

And a heart full of gold

And a house full of fire

Can't we all get a long

Now we all got a God

Call Conan,

We all got a hook and a rod

Call God, brah

Nobody the friend to the world

And we all got a girl

And they all got problems

Now we got a car

On a train up a mountain

A coin in the fountain

A gun in each hand

And a phone card

Somebody call the opera

Or better yet, Harpo, long God

Long time

We all got a song

Somebody mumbled

The troll to a hall far

A hymn to a poem

And a bump on a log

Timber timber

We all got garages

Timber timber

We all got a gun

Timber timber

We all got windfalls

Windmills

Blond dykes

Klondikes

Assholes

Mayday

Long trucks

All got blondes

All got a God

All got a soul

All made of gold

And we all got goals here, miners

Mumble the words of the poem

Somebody left a voicemail

At one point, though

We all had a mom

At one point though,

We all had a blonde

At one point, though we all got a God

At one point though,

We all got a song

Now all we got is cars

Long roads

And guns

At one point, though,

We all got along

At one point though

We all fell in love

At one point though we all had a

Mom

Now I'm so polar

Bearr's on the run

But we all got a song

And we all got a thought

And we all got God

Now we all get along

In the cars

With the guns

On the road

With the blondes

Cause we all got a song

And we all got Moms

And they all got blonde hair

Moms got a gun,

Hey,

Mom's got a song,

Hey,

Mom's got a son,

Hey,

Mom's got a thought,

Hey,

Mom's got a God,

No, mom's just a God,

Huh,

That's what you want,

By the light of the sun

And the sound of a gun

And we all got a rap

And we all got problems

All got long days

All got wants

And we all got a God, so

God's got problems.

— I gotta solve em.

Psychic tears and solvents—

What do you want Joel?

I got problems,

I got a son!

I got ten songs out,

Ten albums so far,

Nobody loves them

Nobody loves me,

I got problems,

I got nothing

I got too much to really be loveless,

Yet,

Here I am,

Just watching

WHAT.

Call up my son,

Ask him for a joke

And the weather forecast

I got a whole skeletal system of broken bones

And a whole body cast

Castrate this diamond,

Call up the tin man—

Tin man?!

Cowardly lion

And the straw hat,

Call up the

— what are those?

Lollipops!

No, I don't want that

I just want a home with some tall grass.

I'm really about to whoop this girl's assless ass and she knows that.

She has to.

Chilling in the bath though

But

Can't afford a bathrobe

I collect

Windfall

I call the dolphins

Shatter that asshole

Staggered on stage, then

Slandered my hammer,

gathered up passwords

X1, aren't I?

Doctor?

I've probably got a straw hat

Don't have a heart, though

Probably just a robot

Somebody tried hard

Guess I need a doctor

Wombat?

What?

She looks like a wombat.

Damn, dog.

Bleed!

I came from the world with the no sleep

Bleed!

I came from the world with the bonfires!

Bleed!

I parked my car in the palisades.

Bonfires!

I parked my car in the palisades!

Bonfires!

I pitched my tent in the Malibu mountains!

Bleed!

My coworker babysat in Calabasas!

Bonfires!

Pig and Whistle could spin slick but still doesn't own an apartment!

Apartheid!

Noah died on all of the story arcs, besides ours.

Non partisan!

I went to work on a cold hard Monday.

Daughters!

I wrote the poor some porridge, and they didn't want that!

Pesticides!

Still a stream of conciousness?

I thought he was sober!

Bonfires!

I got no room for my heart,

SO I CUT IT OUT

BLEED.

Fires.

BLEED!

Fires.

BLEEEEED.

Alright, you won.

I need my medicine,

Medicine, medicine

I neee my medicine…

Who are I, God?

I need my medicine, medicine

Medicine—

I need my

Really, a face with the Bandit?

If Seth wants the role, he can have it.

Which Seth?

Exactly.

Bad Son.

Deadmau5

Hats off—

Actually, a helmet

Actually, a deadman.

Who cried lurking?

Who calls Art Lord?

Why, Sir Jyre!

My art deposit's on John, man.

Art world

Awkward

Harvard?

Aavark?

An assless advark.

Don't stalk me when I'm hark the halrold hallmark cards and half washed alters!

(The last day of Passover, Easter Sunday)

Don't pseudoscience

Your gross meds have no stream of conciousness at all

Your meds have no conciousness at all.

Why yes,

I terminal hate you,

Mr. famous

We broke up at an airport over coffee

I dream your head

But never just the body

That I yearn for

I'm trapped inside a suffix

That was earned from just a metaphor

I grasp at mediocre,

As Flo said

“I would have aspired to be a struggling actress”

I would aspire just to b an arifaft

A sanctioned little blonde

In front row

VIP

With the pasties on

Oh afterparty?

Models and bottles and bodies

And blondes

Brunettes and redheads

And a couple of ours with extensions

And a dye job

Long legs

Court covers

And awards,

Having proven subtle standards set by

All of yours

When all I want is

Hallmark cards.

Hold that thought.

Rinse out the conditioner

Do you get the picture or not?!

I don't live here!

Do you remember the fact that

I've been here

Just a minute in my time—

Into you!

It's infinite forever.

Forever, we'll.

Forever.

Ten minutes in and I don't remember any of it.

Ten mirrors ten men and ten hammers, the hammer.

Ten tonsils, ten fingers, ten toes and my hall award

Ten helmets, ten cars in garages

Ten mortals

Attention, attention

I've written a symphony!

Attention, attention!

I'm living in misery!

Attention, attention,

My toys in my toolbox:

Attention, attention,

My girls and my others

Attention?

Attention!

I'm ten minutes into this

Attention, attention.

I bet you'll remember this.

Mission accomplished?

Yes, major.

Detective.

Agent.

But I won't.

No, I'm not okay.

I'll never hold my baby again.

No, what's my shoe size?

Too grand?

So I hideaway

Then, I'm a Marxist,

Forgot my own mantras

I'm probably home,

But no address to mark it

Off the map

Off the grid

What's I miss

Nothing much here

Contact works

Contact breaks

Contact lenses

Like my hazels?

Like my blue eyes?

Are they gorgeous?

Still, I'm darker

Forge the caverns,

Then, there's this flaw:

Seven numbers

You're just like God,

Only darker

What harm have I brought you?

Called your wind

Nothing but heartache

Cried Agatha, a moan

And then I will go,

Becoming nameless in code and essence

Where willI—?

And then nothing at all?

As one ceases to be,

So the the other;

The tale before time

Of immortal lovers

I'm incognito

You're in my his[tory]

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019 ™ All Rights Reserved.

C'cxell Soleïl