Not Ready - Mutts

Found God in her room

Mama said, «not ready.»

Looked up to the moon

Moon Man said, «you not ready.»

Dipped down through the flume

Water felt so heavy

Dropped change on some tunes

Jukebox said, «you're too heady.»

I wanted a flock my feathers fit

I needed to straighten out my shit

I’m gon' get down in the water

I need to wash and get myself clean

Suit coat, I couldn’t breathe

So my lungs, I spit 'em out

Pant hem, to the knees

My legs, I cut 'em down

It’s true I know I shoulda found myself a better tailor

But I spent all my money on a suit that looked the shit

Now that I’ve bled out you can bury me early — but dapper

Instead of fitting it I shoulda found a suit that fit

I’m shedding confidence like oaks unders November frost

Embarassed by my fleeting leaves and my rooted thoughts

The concept lingers like Fall cumulus — fat and low

I pray for rain just to get wet with what I need to know