Black Cat
The black cat firecracker snapped back baseball cappin' cola-cola sippin' on the suds wearing penny loafers.
His Sunday best ain't good enough for the rest of the world.
Yet, he stands in line and waits on his turn.
The complex, disconfigured man, unassociated, agitated with the careful investigator taking notes.
He slowly tiptoes towards the dark.
Watercolor sunset painted before his eyes.
The gateway has been opened, to the wonders of his mind.
He was a non-believer, now without a doubt.
He looks up at the clouds, the chemical swirls fading in and out.
The peacekeeper drafted into war, with a loaded rifle.
Unaware of consequences cold war ended with a spaceship has kind of shakers.
He has been programmed to believe a lie.
Yet, he stands there with a gun on the front line.
Blood red color sunset, painted before his eyes.
The veil has been lifted, as he watches his friends drop like flies.
He was a non-believer, now without a doubt.
He looks down at his paws, the guts he had spluttered on the ground.
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!
The family got the letter, it was a message, clear and true.
The hero, he had fallen, for the red, white, and blue.
He was a non-believer, now without a doubt.
His body lays six feet under the ground.
The black cat's nine lives, they ran out.
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!