Lyrics

Yertle and Bartholomew
Sitting with in the vestibule
Searching for exotic tools
To computate the Golden rule

If Bartholomew had 500 hats
He would want 500 more
His cracked emphatic intellect
Cannot keep objective score

He would not clock it in a box
He could not with a fox in socks
It’s safe behind his mental blocks
Locked his rocks from Goldilocks

Fixation stirred
With whey and curds
Is symbiosis
With social thrombosis

His pretense
Builds his defense
Rational internal splicing
Spoils our fare with over-spicing

Don’t let our need for reason
Blemish the dance
Don’t let our want for bits & portion
Taint the romance

Yertle says that what I do
The limbic system tells me to
I’ve drank the wishy-washy brew
And never tasted anything new

Over the hill and through the woods
The wolf is surely waiting
Dilapidated vigor the caveat
Yertle van turtle still wants to be king

Fixation stirred
With whey and curds
Is symbiosis
With social thrombosis

Synchronic allure
Cannot confer
His pending diagnosis
Of his apotheosis,

He gathers reference
Without preference
Incoherent cognate pricing
Taste it once again this time with icing

Don’t let our need for reason
Blemish the dance
Don’t let our want for bits and portion
Taint the romance

Fixation stirred
With whey and curds
Is symbiosis
With social thrombosis

Bitter tasting kale and brine
Oft mistaken for bread and wine
From the start to finish line
We are more than our design