brooklyn betty

Miss Liberty
Will you oxidize the scrap?
Turn copper to green
Better yet, turn it pure
Bright bumble-bee yellow, goooooold

Miss Liberty
Will you oxidize the scrap?
Turn copper to green
Better yet, turn it pure
Bright bumble-bee yellow, goooooold
Make it bold

Italicized, slanted, shining down
On the garden below
Flowers spread in square feet
Step after step there are dreams
And what flies gets around
It gets hot, it steams
Right? knot, as it seems
I’m so free I’m bounded
By the floor, the ceiling
Insane I know
Miss Liberty, Untie the strings
Untie the striiiiings

I want Miss Liberty
To untie these strings
Can you please?
I want to do what I can see
Miss Liberty, I want to rock my steeze
My Brooklyn Betty T

Miss Liberty has to eat
She’s got needs
Ends don’t always follow the means
Not everything can be written
Stitched with immortal seams
Don’t you see?
Language is uniform
Yet Rebels write letters
Carried and delivered
In the public
Envelopes are adorned
They wind up misread, then torn
Free has a fee
Miss Liberty even bleeds
Under the sun the seed grows
With it, weeds
My mouth waters
For the gold that is pure
Yet I can’t taste the facts
The truth is bland
Falsehood is in nightmares
But it wasn’t part of the plan
Cares are not worried
With the case
That ties unknown hands
It won’t happen
No, it can
Justice is just a thought
Good or bad depending on the man

I want Miss Liberty
To untie these strings
Can you please?
I want to do what I can see
Miss Liberty, I want to rock my steeze
My Brooklyn Betty T

With where the seeds are planted
Bees pollinate until they sting
Tainted, every other stripe is dark
Back to back
Freedom, I’m sold
Then I’m told
Wait until you find out what you’ve signed
It shines until you’re old
You’ll hide
John Hancock covered in dust
Honesty, it was a bust
Wait, who’s on my side?
I’ve never gone that way
Now the tide pulls strong
My mind thinks long
And I want more than ever
To pull the concrete lever
Freeing my endeavors

Miss Liberty
Will you oxidize the scrap?
Turn copper to green
Better yet, turn it pure
Bright bumble-bee yellow, goooooold

I want Miss Liberty
To untie these strings
Can you please?
I want to do what I can see
Miss Liberty, I want to rock my steeze
My Brooklyn Betty T

The sky above, a graveyard
Telephone’s dial
Old shoes hang above on lines
The wind blows
Telephone’s chime
Ricocheting off hardwood floors
Tall ceilings are not high enough
The fireplace is lit for heat
Nothing’s ever hot enough
You’re so cool
I’m on my way back from the store
People are out on the streets
I hop up the stairs
Asphalt to sidewalk’s concrete
Neighbors sit and stare
Got something to share?
Check the mail
The door opens
Envelopes, letters pour out like hail
Options pile fast
I’ll go for the best
They’ll want half
The story will last

I know, I know, I know
I don’t need the suit
Bow-tied I flow
To a beat of a flute
Whistle, whistle, boom
Omen or doom
Don’t want any other shoes
I know, I know, I know
I don’t want any other shoes

Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
My shoes fit fine

I’ve got the Marlin
Everyone’s-ah shark
I pick up the pace
Cause I’m younger than the Old Man
And the Sea has never stopped
Me quick as the sand
I don’t sink beneath
Oysters make fools
Grace me with your presence
Presents, charming tools
Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool

Double-tied, my laces
I’m running through life
On a 100 meter dash
Reeling in the gold
While Doberman’s pinch at my heels
The prize I want to hold
And the fabric is gone
The thrown have flown
Floating through skies
On a velvet throne
Trickster stole
What was on my sleeve
You may have the deed
But it’s signed to me

I know, I know, I know
I don’t need the suit
Bow-tied I flow
To a beat of a flute
Whistle, whistle, boom
Omen or doom
Don’t want any other shoes
I know, I know, I know
I don’t want any other shoes

Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
My shoes fit fine

A collar, dodge the hose
A T I chose
My hands fold into my pockets
Like tea leaves in wood crates
In the City of Notions
Digging deeper into the ocean
For a fresh tempt
At catching the esteem
Prevail and people enjoy each catch
From my line
My hook looks like your satchel?
I don’t want any other shoes
Why do you want mine?
Fine, now make sure
They come back shined

I know, I know, I know
I don’t need the suit
Bow-tied I flow
To a beat of a flute
Whistle, whistle, boom
Omen or doom
Don’t want any other shoes
I know, I know, I know
I don’t want any other shoes

Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
Everyone’s-oh cool, so cool
My shoes fit fine

The sky is powdered
Hours tick by eclectic
A collision is on the clock
About to hit
Turn off the brights
The head is a lightning rod
For the blues, those come electric
Nightmares and dreams awaken
Mysterious creatures and effects
Awaken from the deep sleep
In a cold sweat
Asking for Thanks
On a Friday Night?
It’s a new year
And the sky is brighter
Than the Northern Lights
The Mayans say twenty twelve
As vague as Nostradamus
Who’s at the window?
It’s the girl with the gloves
There to save you from the cold
Of your imagination
The snowball in her hands
With the love that never goes old
Talk about fascination
Nine, one, one to never mind you’re dating
It was fate ‘and
You’re not in the shape
To run alone at night
Late, late, late, late

She holds the above, she holds the above
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love, she has her love
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love in a snowball
She holds it with her gloves

Flurries all around
Playing ping pong with a white ball
Ahead of the game
Behind in time
Deafened to blurred demands
Your mind is stuck in the clouds
The large puffs that roll in
Flying like the words
From under the old man’s pipe
He’s spitting smoke and sounds
Stories of times laminated in gold
He’s walking on his words
You’re following all the hype
Surrounding mountain tops
Flirting with peaks
That are never reached
Impossible feats
Caught in a storm atop Everest
She blurs into sight
“It’s just night
And you were thinking
Of evil things
Lay back down
And listen to me sing”

She holds the above, she holds the above
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love, she has her love
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love in a snowball
She holds it with her gloves

You’re fighting, fighting
Fighting for air
The snowball rolls
And picks up emptiness
Happiness and despair
She knows as it goes
It builds stronger and larger
Than the gloves can hold
She needs to share
Under a white covered tree
And it’s no time to pretend
That everything is wrong
You’ve been humming
All day her name
Thrown in your favorite song
Cause she’s got more hops
Than Corona at the beach
The snow is so cold, it’s hot
And you want to stay for good
Only if you could, the snowball falls hard
You awake, the window’s open
And you’re freezing cold

She holds the above, she holds the above
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love, she has her love
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love in a snowball
She holds it with her gloves

She holds the above, she holds the above
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love, she has her love
In a snowball in her gloves
She has her love in a snowball
She holds it with her gloves

It’s back, November
If the leaves don’t tell you
You don’t know
Analyze the calendar
You’ll see a day highlighted by the eye
One full of trails
Got to go back, it’s that time
The Iceman Cometh, Iceman Cometh
The Fallllllllll

Cycology, we’re all cycologists
Getting our fix
In the woods, an ocean
Rock’n the waves we twist
We ride unstoppable, on and on
Crash and jump back
On it
Wave, wave, wave, waves
Without fail pushing to conclude
Dodging a swift, surprising pitch
The sand pits the Iceman throws
Wings won’t be clipped
To the sound of cowbells in the hands
There is no can’t

Mountain bike wheels spin
Over the dirt of the single path
Slicing blades of grass
Mountain bikes roll
Fast down the double track
The Iceman Cometh
Don’t look back
The Iceman Cometh, Iceman Cometh
The Fallllllllll

I am a number, I am a number
One to forty five cross country hundred
TC, what’s happening?
There are lines
Cycles on racks
On One Thirty One, Seventy Two
The light in the sky
Kalkaska it starts with you
I am a number
With a lid, an aquatic back
Brass knuckles on the front end
Two six, two nine, I got a single on it
Fixed on it, geared for it
Leaning into the bends
Churning through the sand
Escalating branch after branch
Weave down the webs of the wall
Slide on through Lombard’s Luge
Climbing Ice Breaker
Accelerating through the tunnel
Into the tents at the end
The numbers are all called
Right Brain and Bell’s
The Iceman Cometh, Iceman Cometh
The Fallllllllll

Mountain bike wheels spin
Over the dirt of the single path
Slicing blades of grass
Mountain bikes roll
Fast down the double track
The Iceman Cometh
Don’t look back
The Iceman Cometh, Iceman Cometh
The Fallllllllll