AMERICAN BUDDHA

Monkey and Rat

Can a monkey make a rat weak in the knees

Dragon Palace printed paper placemat

Says you are the monkey, I am a rat

Says I am an ambitiously friendly rat

And you are a monkey who’s persuasively intelligent

Isn’t it silly to think that

According to this printed paper placemat

You are a monkey and I am a rat

And we’d be just fine if we were to affiliate

Isn’t it silly to think that

Isn’t it silly the monkey and the rat

Now what makes that mat think

That we would ever get together over drinks

Or shoot each other seductive winks

Might our offspring resemble minx

You’re a pro and I’m just hopeless at Tiddlywinks

According to this printed paper placemat

Says you are a monkey and I am a rat

And we’d be just fine if we were to affiliate

Your feet are furry and I got buck teeth

You swing from trees while I prefer a hunk of cheese

You’re a royal flush and I’m a pair of threes

Can a monkey make a rat weak in the knees

I praise my friends while you tisk tisk yours

Would you ever tolerate a rodent with whiskers

Would I abandon running in this rat race

To monkey around with my primate Princess Grace

Funkmanifesto of Sequin

 A boy about ten had to stay after school

Cause he didn’t want to funk it by the Golden Rule

Teacher said, ‘Son, you gotta understand

How to let the funk grow and get large and expand’

Within and without, around across and between

How to let it play loud, how to let it play mean

There’s a lesson in what I’m saying that you simply must learn

If you want to shake and bake it, and burn baby burn

So write this on the chalkboard a hundred and six times

Until it sinks into a crystallized grain in your mind

You expect others to funk unto you

Fair enough, but you must funk unto them, too

FUNK MEN FUNK WOMEN OF THE WORLD UNITE

GOT NOTHING TO DO BUT SHAKE IT LOOSE TONIGHT

FUNK MEN FUNK WOMEN OF THE WORLD UNITE

GOT NOTHING TO DO BUT SHAKE ‘EM OFF TONIGHT

We need the funk, and we need it tonight

Funk get ready to roll tonight

Funk woman funk man met one fine funky day

He was walking ‘round the corner whistling Marvin Gaye

‘Mercy mercy me’ young lady did declare

‘Oh you make me want to holler’ he thought as he stared

Back into her eyes with the coolest of demeanors

Like once before a time, a funky time he had seen her

Funk forward a few years and wouldn’t you believe her

It was five funk kids, funky golden retriever

Zeke, Larry, Stella, Henrietta, and Ted

Lived funkily ever after with their dynamite Fred

CHORUS

You see in this day and age you know it’s sad but it’s true

So many think it only what the funk can do for you

I say that’s a big stinking bucket of bunk

You should be thinking, what can I do for the funk

Show and tell and funk people to those who don’t know

Before you know it, they’ll be slamming up with Kurtis Blow

So spread the good sounds to your whole unfunky clan

Do it right and get ‘em freakin’ it with The Gap Band

Take it into town where the hip and the hop can hang

And let ‘em all celebrate like Kool & the Gang

Whatever you do, don’t let it catch dust on your shelf

It’s a shame and sin to keep the funk to your self

CHORUS

Re: Buddha Quake

Set me up with a nasty old right hook

The night the baby peach tree shook

Nooks became crannies, crannies nooks

Checkmate baby, knight takes rook

A window of hope in an otherwise wasteland

Remind me never to build on quicksand

In the end we were grossly undermanned

Itty bitty Custer’s lost the last stand

But the ground still harbors secret joy

Buddha’s back in the temple of Hanoi

Come on listen in, it’s better than bok choy

Seq, Turk, Roj and the Luv boy

Ground’s awake

Move and shake

Finnegans Wake

Have some dew and cake

Said the sooth is spake

Re: Buddha Quake

Yes the sooth is spake

Re: Buddha Quake

May I take your horse and stable

She says as if she’s clearing the table

Then proceeds to raise the Tower of Babel

An eerie power and the stuff of fable

Forgive me the sin of bewilderment

I just want to know what the fiddler meant

The riddle of the rhythm is my environment

When the heavy ground suddenly filled our tent

Burmese Chicken Jam

Cause blood boils and children scream

And the man who toils ain’t quite what he seems

It causes my old heart to sicken

As I recall the Burmese Chicken …

The Real Deal (I Don’t Think). Hustlin through the artists to get to the underground. Listening to the strange beasts howlin all around.

I heard it from the monks, they drink it til they’re drunk. It is Blue Papaya Funk.

Sleeping Southern Summertime. Per Sequin B, this song was actually ‘Sleeping Down South’; original working title ‘Stains on the Brain’.