Who gave this monkey such motivation
To climb down his tree and up the back of me?
Who's keeping his currency in circulation
When it used to be free to take a little peek
At what your liquid is floating?
Find out where your get-up is going to
But for now it's just a blind grind
And he calls the tune
You spend a lot of time keeping your shit clean
When it's a dirty hand that feeds
Watch your mouth
Oh, holy night of divination
In the jungle of love, a little push, a little shove
Don't need no sight to sense frustration
Between the bees and the birds
Everybody's got a word for their absentee king
Who's out on the plain just doing his thing
While the snakes take his place
Slung like slings
You spend a lot of time keeping your shit clean
When it's a dirty hand that feeds
Watch your mouth
Keeping your heart clean
Begs you notice the bruises in a day
The ways in which we play
All gripping at our souls
These marks remind us
How easily the bruised
Are often first refused
The few that are left and unused
Singing, "Do, Lord, oh, do remember me!"