Word Salad - A2

Verse 1

Hookers, hikers,
Stranger dangers,
Holocaust blues,
Lost hooligans.

Hotel whore hostesses
Snoring bores,
Aspiring potholes,
Horseshit hash au gratin

The word salad tumbles out half-digested,
With no particular place to go,
A junkyard full of nouns and verbs
In a cerebral overflow.

Some are looking for a chorus,
Some are begging for a rhyme,
Some just want a little meaning
Before they run out of time.

Chorus

I am a Word Salad,
A never-ending flow,
I ooze chopped thoughts
From somewhere up above.

They are the Orphans in the air,
All hoping to be adopted—
By a sentence, by a paragraph, by a thought
That says, “You’re not forgotten.”

But till then we are all just words without a home,
Waiting for somebody to see
That somewhere in this word salad
There might be a song trying to be.

Verse 2

Cauliflower herds,
Handkerchief crumbles,
Human chaos,
Shrouded clouds.

Lost folds,
Shielded foils,
Cocktail thieves,
Endless dead ends.

Throw them on the table,
Let the syllables collide,
Maybe something worth remembering
Is hiding deep inside.

A noun bumps into a verb,
An adjective starts a fight,
A dangling little metaphor
Runs screaming into the night.

Bridge

We’re tired of this cerebral drip,
The sterile little feeding tube,
Where every thought gets analyzed
Before it gets a chance to move.

So throw us up!
Don’t clean us up!
Let every ugly word escape!
A song ain’t born in perfect order—
Sometimes it starts with a mistake.

Breakdown

Hookers!
Hikers!
Stranger dangers!

Hotel whores!
Snoring bores!

Cauliflower!
Handkerchief!
Cocktail thieves!

WHAT THE HELL DOES ANY OF IT MEAN?

Maybe nothing.
Maybe everything.
Maybe meaning comes along
When the right words trip and fall
Into the right damn song.

Final Chorus

I am a Word Salad,
A never-ending flow,
A verbal vomit machine
With nowhere left to go.

Orphans in the air,
Still hoping to be adopted—
By a sentence, by a paragraph, by a thought,
By a melody that says:

“Come on in.
You belong here.”

Because every song begins
As something no one understands—
A handful of stupid little words
That somehow learn to hold hands.

Outro

Hookers, hikers…
Stranger dangers…
Holocaust blues…
Lost hooligans…

Throw it all up.

Let it all fly.

Maybe one of these words
Will finally become
the leading man
And not just
Word Salad chew