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Speedy Punchy

from Sour Guy by Sour Guy

/

lyrics

Blank mind
Kill time
Grey sky trapping me beneath forcing me to stay off my feet.
But then I realize the prize of free time is pointless. What's the point if I have nothing to show, nothing to point at?

All I've done is get baked on a couch. I'm not a couch potato I'm a mother fucking french fry.
This television set has negative net pleasure it's given me over the course of my coarse life.
Now all I do is complain about the weather as if sunny weather would affect whether or not I'd go outside.
I know I'd hide. I'd confide in staying beside my computer regretting I never tried.
So how's the view watching my conscious and subconscious collide?

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from Sour Guy, released July 11, 2012

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Making New Enemies California

www.makingnewenemies.org

Art Collective / Utopian Cult /
Soul Posse

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