Microwave 2

With a crook in the cradle
Who blings up the candy bike
The shakeup will be fatal
And melt the wheels on your trike
No bendy straws in my drinks
I’ll sink low where they send me
Can't sip free when the straw has kinks
Swirl psych-out like half-Tennessee


With a face full of mace glue
In a cage made of laser bars
The sick escape was traced to
A slipstream that orbits mars
The race to the place was with
the fuzz sirens and fiery foes
The pocket ship pilot was my cuz
with a buzz as red-cold as rose

There are missiles on our toes
Click the hatch, drop our cargo
Burn them when the whistle blows
Can't catch the warp 4 glow
Lose all the napkin rings
Drink or drop the six packs
We'll pop out the razor rims
And rip a strip of tic-tacs

Send the laser guided ape
Drop space-gators in the gaps
No staplers, straps or tape
Use carmel under space-caps
Marvel in the maple maps
No apes for my blender dreams
Blend creamed cat, heave your craps
Make stacks of pancake mutinies

Crisp crumple without sun block
Rip a bumble like a June bee
Go suck a royal tic-toc
Hoard butter in a nuttery
Make your way into milky ways
Light waves crash on black hole sand
Milk haze from the sun rays
Cook a space clone by hand

Or book a flight to the icing
And sip soup like the spice-king.