Lyrics Menu - Danny Mendiola

It can seem the path was paved with someone else in mind
It can be a task to say which was the past will wind
And I just want to know the truth, don't want to tell a lie
The last place to stop to eat is sixty miles behind
But slow down, look at all the pretty pictures people have painted
Stop and look at all the pretty roses people have placed there
Stop and look at all the roadkill on the side of the road
Stop and look back at the path we chose

I'll have the soup with a side of stone
Put it in a bowl and top it off with foam
'Cause when they give the flavor fingernails it fights and makes its own
But when they give it clawless, fleshy stumps it settles for a bone
Flavor's hairy, giddy throes are mainly for the springtime
Very many flavors will be shitting in the meantime
I hate oatmeal, goop and gelatin, don't want to make it seem like
I have any reservations
But this restaurant seems pretty nice
It's warm, it's got a set of lights
The napkins crawl around with lice
They're clogging up the soup bowl
You know, kudos to menudo
How it likes to feel as uno
Always fails to toe the line
I got a tooth, a toe in mine
Oh, how it's fun to be alive
So fill the gap between your time
Smile for the people watching, bite down on the fork

When you're finished, go outside
Run around the countryside
Pick a blade of grass for Mom, she'll love it, alright, go inside
It is so nice to be this way
To sing inside the sunset sitting saintly beside swans who sing songs, screaming at the rays
Stay, straddle the day
Fuck the moon, he likes it rough

Tidal waves tend not to stop
And think not of the people lost
The wave leans down, it listens in
To see which among them can swim
So in the moment of the leaning
They attend a movie screening
At times, feeling more clear-headed
Instead pop and spray their brethren
Incense, incest, insects, sin, sex, syntax, we just ingest in jest
Aesthetic times are staying crows
Squirts of blood won't alter those

A baby like the string of a balloon
Stillborn into the broken bits of bed
And as the winter sky holds tight the moon
And as those skies appear, I look, they're dead

Cinema scenes want the dark to recede
Like corpses, cold, cut shortly as the spring
Now, floating, flying free on spring's full breeze
And afterwards, then, autumn does it bring

And tumbling under rain clouds to descend
Below, a Ferris wheel, a creaking sound
Balloons loop down upon that big wheel's trend
They go forward, up, back, down, back down back down

The busted blue balloons are for the bays
Beneath the Ferris wheel's red-orange rays

And now still we drive the empty road with everyone else
I intend to leave the kitchen better than it was found
Sometimes the road goes down, so then we'll listen to music
Try to do this to remind me what it means to be human
And like a prism making color out of just white light
Think I'm breaking out of prison sometime tonight
My mind is mine
I spilled my guts for you
Sacrificed my son to you
No hand came down to stop me and now nothing will