Whoa man,
Let me tell you ‘bout
This freaky shit,
This…far-out
Thought that occurred to me:
It’s so—
It’s so—
Oh, just wait ‘n see.
So, it was, like,
Way late one night
When I remembered,
Shit, the budgie hasn’t been fed…
In 3 months.
It might, shit, it might be dead!
So I go, right,
I go to check it out
And it’s like, perfectly alright,
Chirpin’ away happ’ly
Behind its bars—
Cgirpin’ away happ’ly
Behind its bars
Like the stupid thing
Didn’t realise
It was, like, caged!
And I’m like—
Just standing there, enraged,
That…that…you know.
And the bird’s so—
So happy!
And I so didn’t get it.
So I walked round its cage,
But from every angle
It’s still behind those damn bars.
And then – this is the freaky part,
I realise with a start,
That, you see,
The way he looks at me,
I’m always behind bars!
Freakeeeeeeee
Or what?!!
So, it’s like, to the budgie
We’re the ones behind bars
Leading a pointless existence
For the sole purpose of the budgie’s subsistence,
And I realised then that resistance
Is futile because
The budgies
Have supreme
Control.
But they play their role
Of innocuous if slightly irritating household pet
So well that I bet even you’ve been fooled.
But, trust me, they’ve ruled
This planet waaaay before you were even
An itch in your father’s pants.
We’ve got no chance:
Sooner or later the revolution is going to come,
Oh yes,
The revolution will come,
And the revolution will not be televised,
And some
Of us will not come out alive
Because we’ve been forgetting to feed the budgie.
January 2002