Sunday Driver - Buck 65

I walk the earth quietly, by day carry a net

With no strings attached to a magic marionette

See there’s so little time left and yet there’s so much space

Thinking why don’t you give me a call later on so we can touch base

I swim across the seven seas and follow the sounds of handclaps

And just try to keep my balls out of the sand traps

Because before I go on live all my enemies try to contrive

Plots to make my whole entire routine take a swan dive

But this ain’t commercialized hip-hop or indie pop

Nah, this ain’t the mashed potato, uh-uh this ain’t the lindy hop

The dance that goes with this is called the keep perfectly still

Before your brain becomes burnt out like cheap circuitry will

Lately I’ve been spending almost all my nights with my hands full

Between writing my rhymes and my fights with the man-wolf

I’m building a better mousetrap and plus a wider fence

Because I trust my instincts and follow my spider sense