Livin' At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe - Original Lyrics

Song	Livin' At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe - Original
Artist	MC Frontalot
Album	Secrets From The Future
Download	Image LRC TXT

	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Woke up by the pool again.
	Must have played the fool again.
	Wonder what them hooligans put on the grill that stinks
	Kind of like burnt fur and regurg'ed drinks
	With an undertone of the acorn
	And leather that's laid on
	Thick like Liz Claiborne.
	Step over with big trepidation,
	Lift up the top off the meat cooking station
	To discover my homie Todd!
	I said "Oh my God,
	What grim façade
	Do you meet me with in my wakefulness?"
	I had too many Stellas and they all was crisp;
	Must I rise up in the morning with my squirrel desisted
	From the world? Insisted, as I did
	This instant, that
	Him up in heaven again is premature?
	If only reality would concur!
	Poke him with the tongs. Dude won't wake up.
	Put him on the lawn; Ray's about to cook a steak up
	And this ain't no kind of mausoleum.
	Got to get the high degree on.
	Todd's onomatopoeia
	Got already all used up — I mean he sizzled —
	Ain't nothing left but char, bone, and gristle.
	My heart is fissile: I mean it could break
	Like crystal; he never learned to whistle. Don't rake
	His cadaver up, wassamadda with your mind?
	He ain't a lawn clipping. We been knuckleheads since old times.
	Dig out the batting helmet and the bat
	'Cause we're all about to have a funeral, and that's that.
	We'll do it after breakfast. We'll do it up proper.
	We'll drop all his ashes out the Airwolf copter,
	All singing up dirges, all spreading out blossoms,
	And it's gonna b-b-b-be frickin' awesome!
	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Six bong rips later: we ain't going to the helipad,
	Standin' ‘round hella sad,
	Wonder where them Stellas at.
	All these dudes] ain't huge on sentiment,
	Still they want to say a little something to the benefit
	Of layin' Todd's soul to rest.
	I cold regressed, contemplated old regrets
	And said, "Man why he even got to do a thing
	Like pass out on the Bar-B-King?"
	I'm tryin' to bring from like recesses in my mind
	A word or two that wouldn't prove unkind.
	Aligned as he was with the less-than-angelic,
	Trafficking black tar smack & psychedelics
	In that little-ass van of his, and drunk doing it,
	Knowing what the right thing to do was but eschewing it,
	It'd seem pretty probable
	Flames are audible:
	That's the duty that Todd'll pull,
	Not just in death, but in after-that,
	Like the bat out the h-e-double-vertical-slat
	But inbound in the case of this rodent,
	Like when he got peeled-out on and ‘sploded,
	Or indeed when he got shanked in the joint —
	Hella causing me to wonder if there's even a point
	To our shepherdly tending of his life's ending.
	Bet he's chilling at Friendly's
	And gonna be back in the neighborhood shortly,
	Discussing how awesome it is to be portly,
	Reporting the slant he just got on with Blister
	(Drank till his wrists hurt,
	Boned the ghost of your sister).
	The dude's a bucket kickster when he has to be
	And this one wasn't like a masterpiece
	So yes we're depressed but not drastically...
	Livin' at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I'm livin', it's hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	I'll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.
	I'll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.

	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Woke up by the pool again.
	Must have played the fool again.
	Wonder what them hooligans put on the grill that stinks
	Kind of like burnt fur and regurg' ed drinks
	With an undertone of the acorn
	And leather that' s laid on
	Thick like Liz Claiborne.
	Step over with big trepidation,
	Lift up the top off the meat cooking station
	To discover my homie Todd!
	I said " Oh my God,
	What grim fa ade
	Do you meet me with in my wakefulness?"
	I had too many Stellas and they all was crisp
	Must I rise up in the morning with my squirrel desisted
	From the world? Insisted, as I did
	This instant, that
	Him up in heaven again is premature?
	If only reality would concur!
	Poke him with the tongs. Dude won' t wake up.
	Put him on the lawn Ray' s about to cook a steak up
	And this ain' t no kind of mausoleum.
	Got to get the high degree on.
	Todd' s onomatopoeia
	Got already all used up I mean he sizzled
	Ain' t nothing left but char, bone, and gristle.
	My heart is fissile: I mean it could break
	Like crystal he never learned to whistle. Don' t rake
	His cadaver up, wassamadda with your mind?
	He ain' t a lawn clipping. We been knuckleheads since old times.
	Dig out the batting helmet and the bat
	' Cause we' re all about to have a funeral, and that' s that.
	We' ll do it after breakfast. We' ll do it up proper.
	We' ll drop all his ashes out the Airwolf copter,
	All singing up dirges, all spreading out blossoms,
	And it' s gonna bbbbe frickin' awesome!
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Six bong rips later: we ain' t going to the helipad,
	Standin' ' round hella sad,
	Wonder where them Stellas at.
	All these dudes ain' t huge on sentiment,
	Still they want to say a little something to the benefit
	Of layin' Todd' s soul to rest.
	I cold regressed, contemplated old regrets
	And said, " Man why he even got to do a thing
	Like pass out on the BarBKing?"
	I' m tryin' to bring from like recesses in my mind
	A word or two that wouldn' t prove unkind.
	Aligned as he was with the lessthanangelic,
	Trafficking black tar smack psychedelics
	In that littleass van of his, and drunk doing it,
	Knowing what the right thing to do was but eschewing it,
	It' d seem pretty probable
	Flames are audible:
	That' s the duty that Todd' ll pull,
	Not just in death, but in afterthat,
	Like the bat out the hedoubleverticalslat
	But inbound in the case of this rodent,
	Like when he got peeledout on and ' sploded,
	Or indeed when he got shanked in the joint
	Hella causing me to wonder if there' s even a point
	To our shepherdly tending of his life' s ending.
	Bet he' s chilling at Friendly' s
	And gonna be back in the neighborhood shortly,
	Discussing how awesome it is to be portly,
	Reporting the slant he just got on with Blister
	Drank till his wrists hurt,
	Boned the ghost of your sister.
	The dude' s a bucket kickster when he has to be
	And this one wasn' t like a masterpiece
	So yes we' re depressed but not drastically...
	Livin' at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	I' ll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.
	I' ll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.

	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Woke up by the pool again.
	Must have played the fool again.
	Wonder what them hooligans put on the grill that stinks
	Kind of like burnt fur and regurg' ed drinks
	With an undertone of the acorn
	And leather that' s laid on
	Thick like Liz Claiborne.
	Step over with big trepidation,
	Lift up the top off the meat cooking station
	To discover my homie Todd!
	I said " Oh my God,
	What grim fa ade
	Do you meet me with in my wakefulness?"
	I had too many Stellas and they all was crisp
	Must I rise up in the morning with my squirrel desisted
	From the world? Insisted, as I did
	This instant, that
	Him up in heaven again is premature?
	If only reality would concur!
	Poke him with the tongs. Dude won' t wake up.
	Put him on the lawn Ray' s about to cook a steak up
	And this ain' t no kind of mausoleum.
	Got to get the high degree on.
	Todd' s onomatopoeia
	Got already all used up I mean he sizzled
	Ain' t nothing left but char, bone, and gristle.
	My heart is fissile: I mean it could break
	Like crystal he never learned to whistle. Don' t rake
	His cadaver up, wassamadda with your mind?
	He ain' t a lawn clipping. We been knuckleheads since old times.
	Dig out the batting helmet and the bat
	' Cause we' re all about to have a funeral, and that' s that.
	We' ll do it after breakfast. We' ll do it up proper.
	We' ll drop all his ashes out the Airwolf copter,
	All singing up dirges, all spreading out blossoms,
	And it' s gonna bbbbe frickin' awesome!
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Six bong rips later: we ain' t going to the helipad,
	Standin' ' round hella sad,
	Wonder where them Stellas at.
	All these dudes ain' t huge on sentiment,
	Still they want to say a little something to the benefit
	Of layin' Todd' s soul to rest.
	I cold regressed, contemplated old regrets
	And said, " Man why he even got to do a thing
	Like pass out on the BarBKing?"
	I' m tryin' to bring from like recesses in my mind
	A word or two that wouldn' t prove unkind.
	Aligned as he was with the lessthanangelic,
	Trafficking black tar smack psychedelics
	In that littleass van of his, and drunk doing it,
	Knowing what the right thing to do was but eschewing it,
	It' d seem pretty probable
	Flames are audible:
	That' s the duty that Todd' ll pull,
	Not just in death, but in afterthat,
	Like the bat out the hedoubleverticalslat
	But inbound in the case of this rodent,
	Like when he got peeledout on and ' sploded,
	Or indeed when he got shanked in the joint
	Hella causing me to wonder if there' s even a point
	To our shepherdly tending of his life' s ending.
	Bet he' s chilling at Friendly' s
	And gonna be back in the neighborhood shortly,
	Discussing how awesome it is to be portly,
	Reporting the slant he just got on with Blister
	Drank till his wrists hurt,
	Boned the ghost of your sister.
	The dude' s a bucket kickster when he has to be
	And this one wasn' t like a masterpiece
	So yes we' re depressed but not drastically...
	Livin' at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	Wasting my time at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	Where I' m livin', it' s hard to say,
	But I feel fine at the corner of dude and catastrophe.
	I' ll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.
	I' ll just wait, waving goodbye until the next time.

Livin' At The Corner Of Dude & Catastrophe - Original Lyrics

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