| Song | Forbidden Planet - Original |
| Artist | MC Frontalot |
| Album | Secrets From The Future |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I've seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They're on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall — the decree: you don't go. | |
| So come on, make your trespass, get your flesh fast | |
| turned to dust by the death rays. These are the best days | |
| of our lives: mad scientists with swirly eyes; | |
| people with supernatural powers who live in disguise, | |
| who live in the skies, swing between the sky scrapers, | |
| capes all-a-drape in the words on the shiny papers | |
| that the stapler turned to a booklet, or otherwise perfect bound | |
| so when the glue dries in my old age, loose pages all around; | |
| sound of the wind rustling; cowboy zombies ride, | |
| lassoing up the carrion calves and a skeletal bride. | |
| I'm telling you I don't study the phrenology no more | |
| but I'm astounded by the size of the heads in the store. | |
| And I score my pull. Full moons and the howls commence; | |
| tear through a stack in a night with little reticence. | |
| I'm eating venisons in the woods, get an axe to the dome. | |
| Ken is in pieces behind me — I can still hear him groan. | |
| I should have known from the warning encoded into the name of the place: | |
| forbidden planet, in impermissible space. | |
| And on the surface of the planet, insanity abounds. | |
| Eternal beings shape my sleep and every waking sound | |
| that I make is loud. “Shazam!” I'd say, just to startle you | |
| (a geek ejaculation in between a wave and a particle). | |
| Did a part of you just die just like Clay Loudermilk | |
| shaving information out of a dog without a head? And now the silk | |
| smoking jacket worn by the smartest kid on earth | |
| [Back off, nerd! This library's my turf.] ...and give berth | |
| to the brick hats from Ignatz that fly in posthumous volumes. | |
| At once coeval and incompossible: all rooms | |
| at all times, silver age and foil covers mingle. | |
| Something eldritch in the aisle: soul of the man who filched a single | |
| glance at the most forbidden object on the whole orb. | |
| I hint not at quixotic wandering; take the whole tour. | |
| Look on the shelf under Rapper next to Elf, | |
| you'll see a Frontalot one-fold if I have to smuggle it in myself. | |
| I'm gonna hand-scribble it onto a napkin and then scan it, | |
| print a pile of ‘em out, deliver ‘em to the planet. | |
| I'll acquire a quire and if you don't know what I mean, | |
| look it up: it's one twentieth of a ream. | |
| [Got a song, listen fondly, don't hear a mondegreen] | |
| You think you surrender me to the funny animals who inhabit | |
| but I camp out in the cockpit of the crash land cause they're all rabid. | |
| Don't jinx me now, I'm about to escape from here yet. | |
| I'm on an island in the vastness of space [facing regret]. | |
| And I'm stranded alone, in need of some rescue, | |
| already ran out of food, masticated my left shoe, | |
| built a robot companion — on accident programmed it to feel. | |
| So when it spared a little monkey from despair, its fate was sealed. | |
| I've seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They're on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall — the decree: you don't go. |
| I' ve seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They' re on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall the decree: you don' t go. | |
| So come on, make your trespass, get your flesh fast | |
| turned to dust by the death rays. These are the best days | |
| of our lives: mad scientists with swirly eyes | |
| people with supernatural powers who live in disguise, | |
| who live in the skies, swing between the sky scrapers, | |
| capes alladrape in the words on the shiny papers | |
| that the stapler turned to a booklet, or otherwise perfect bound | |
| so when the glue dries in my old age, loose pages all around | |
| sound of the wind rustling cowboy zombies ride, | |
| lassoing up the carrion calves and a skeletal bride. | |
| I' m telling you I don' t study the phrenology no more | |
| but I' m astounded by the size of the heads in the store. | |
| And I score my pull. Full moons and the howls commence | |
| tear through a stack in a night with little reticence. | |
| I' m eating venisons in the woods, get an axe to the dome. | |
| Ken is in pieces behind me I can still hear him groan. | |
| I should have known from the warning encoded into the name of the place: | |
| forbidden planet, in impermissible space. | |
| And on the surface of the planet, insanity abounds. | |
| Eternal beings shape my sleep and every waking sound | |
| that I make is loud. " Shazam!" I' d say, just to startle you | |
| a geek ejaculation in between a wave and a particle. | |
| Did a part of you just die just like Clay Loudermilk | |
| shaving information out of a dog without a head? And now the silk | |
| smoking jacket worn by the smartest kid on earth | |
| Back off, nerd! This library' s my turf. ... and give berth | |
| to the brick hats from Ignatz that fly in posthumous volumes. | |
| At once coeval and incompossible: all rooms | |
| at all times, silver age and foil covers mingle. | |
| Something eldritch in the aisle: soul of the man who filched a single | |
| glance at the most forbidden object on the whole orb. | |
| I hint not at quixotic wandering take the whole tour. | |
| Look on the shelf under Rapper next to Elf, | |
| you' ll see a Frontalot onefold if I have to smuggle it in myself. | |
| I' m gonna handscribble it onto a napkin and then scan it, | |
| print a pile of ' em out, deliver ' em to the planet. | |
| I' ll acquire a quire and if you don' t know what I mean, | |
| look it up: it' s one twentieth of a ream. | |
| Got a song, listen fondly, don' t hear a mondegreen | |
| You think you surrender me to the funny animals who inhabit | |
| but I camp out in the cockpit of the crash land cause they' re all rabid. | |
| Don' t jinx me now, I' m about to escape from here yet. | |
| I' m on an island in the vastness of space facing regret. | |
| And I' m stranded alone, in need of some rescue, | |
| already ran out of food, masticated my left shoe, | |
| built a robot companion on accident programmed it to feel. | |
| So when it spared a little monkey from despair, its fate was sealed. | |
| I' ve seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They' re on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall the decree: you don' t go. |
| I' ve seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They' re on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall the decree: you don' t go. | |
| So come on, make your trespass, get your flesh fast | |
| turned to dust by the death rays. These are the best days | |
| of our lives: mad scientists with swirly eyes | |
| people with supernatural powers who live in disguise, | |
| who live in the skies, swing between the sky scrapers, | |
| capes alladrape in the words on the shiny papers | |
| that the stapler turned to a booklet, or otherwise perfect bound | |
| so when the glue dries in my old age, loose pages all around | |
| sound of the wind rustling cowboy zombies ride, | |
| lassoing up the carrion calves and a skeletal bride. | |
| I' m telling you I don' t study the phrenology no more | |
| but I' m astounded by the size of the heads in the store. | |
| And I score my pull. Full moons and the howls commence | |
| tear through a stack in a night with little reticence. | |
| I' m eating venisons in the woods, get an axe to the dome. | |
| Ken is in pieces behind me I can still hear him groan. | |
| I should have known from the warning encoded into the name of the place: | |
| forbidden planet, in impermissible space. | |
| And on the surface of the planet, insanity abounds. | |
| Eternal beings shape my sleep and every waking sound | |
| that I make is loud. " Shazam!" I' d say, just to startle you | |
| a geek ejaculation in between a wave and a particle. | |
| Did a part of you just die just like Clay Loudermilk | |
| shaving information out of a dog without a head? And now the silk | |
| smoking jacket worn by the smartest kid on earth | |
| Back off, nerd! This library' s my turf. ... and give berth | |
| to the brick hats from Ignatz that fly in posthumous volumes. | |
| At once coeval and incompossible: all rooms | |
| at all times, silver age and foil covers mingle. | |
| Something eldritch in the aisle: soul of the man who filched a single | |
| glance at the most forbidden object on the whole orb. | |
| I hint not at quixotic wandering take the whole tour. | |
| Look on the shelf under Rapper next to Elf, | |
| you' ll see a Frontalot onefold if I have to smuggle it in myself. | |
| I' m gonna handscribble it onto a napkin and then scan it, | |
| print a pile of ' em out, deliver ' em to the planet. | |
| I' ll acquire a quire and if you don' t know what I mean, | |
| look it up: it' s one twentieth of a ream. | |
| Got a song, listen fondly, don' t hear a mondegreen | |
| You think you surrender me to the funny animals who inhabit | |
| but I camp out in the cockpit of the crash land cause they' re all rabid. | |
| Don' t jinx me now, I' m about to escape from here yet. | |
| I' m on an island in the vastness of space facing regret. | |
| And I' m stranded alone, in need of some rescue, | |
| already ran out of food, masticated my left shoe, | |
| built a robot companion on accident programmed it to feel. | |
| So when it spared a little monkey from despair, its fate was sealed. | |
| I' ve seen a monkey trying hard to love a robot, yo | |
| but all they ever do is fight to the death for your soul. | |
| They' re on a planet that I never meant to visit at all. | |
| Got a sign on the wall the decree: you don' t go. |