I Play My Kazoo-Grand Analog/Len Bowen

I Play My Kazoo - Grand Analog This is a story of a man from down south The fam migrated to the north I'm a put you on what it's about The regular routes, and shanty towns that produce the poor Born in the gutter, word to his mother Make her something outta nothing Matter, work harder, go farther My poppa said you gotta pop a lock on the purpose Gotta love than you implement the heart Recognize the cause, make it true, whatever you do Whether you save the lives or play the kazoo Be the author not the actor of your chapter too Blank pages in this open book, now look I could break it down like whatever you want I come equipped with the sound and equipped with the funk Like, like whatever you want Yes I'm doing my thing Doing my thing I do what I do Walk the line, I play my kazoo Shoot nothing but love when I aim at you I be the baritone rapper with the falsetto I walk with myself, talk to myself It's hard I know I like to exercise the mental health I know that I could do it like no one else So come alive with the sun beneath the earth Capture that moment in time like a camera Withstand the land of a thousand bands I am a man with no answers Although I know the analog is grand That come apart like trouble man I could break it down like whatever you want I come equipped with the sound and equipped with the funk Like, like whatever you want Yes I'm doing my thing Doing my thing I do what I do Walk the line, I play my kazoo Shoot nothing but love when I aim at you I be the baritone rapper with the falsetto Got my headphones on, take the long walk home Recite colorful flows like Pablo Picasso Coon fellow collected, connect When I metal on the mic, big city bright lights Got me broken wide open till I'm useless Like arthritis to a violinist, I can't diminish I scrimmage with the wrist when I write, sip Guinness I break it down to the compound when I'm in it Believe it and you'll know, feel it when it flows He feel it in his toes, she feel it in her nipples Possibly maybe hit the spot that tickles With the beats and the rhymes sinking in like dimples I play my kazoo