A Birthday Call From Paul
PAUL CURRERI, who created this video for his wife, DEVON SPROULE's birthday, explains: "This is a hella serious big willie rap vid for all my boomhead posse world ova out there missing hittin' skins or just lampin' wit dey breezies. This bangin' joint krunked out starstruck from a dogtown of mad luv for my supa-fly bootch." * * * * * You're in my rearview - backpack repacking like You do - bagga apples bowling past your Perty new show shoes - flight papers blowing Timbuktu - Corolla rolling off sad and Without you -- airport sky: Deeply blue -- me too, I love you. Days pass, not fast, recycle Bud Light glass, Racquetball smashing till opponents get smash rash. But listen... I ain't even so-so, no no, I'm so low, solo. Bored and bordeauxed... So I try to skype you baby, cause the mower won't chop. I try to write you baby, but my flow don't pop. The cat eats a stink bug and burps that stanker. I'm video-gaming like a middle-aged wanker. New Yorker cartoons getting dank and danker. I'm a ship gone shit wrong without my anchor. Cast your mind way backwards -- Greenville, Woodstock -- Wading in a stream of simpatico non-stop. I was showing you D chords, and you was showing me kindness; I was buying you cheap beer, and you was blowing my mindness. Yoko showing John what could be said, Bob Dylan ping-ponging Joan Baez, Krasner there somewhere in Jackson's splatter, Dora Maar say, "Pablo, what's the matter?" I knew then where'd we'd been and where we was still heading, But ...
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