Lyrics

Memories in now flexing tones in my retina The sound of sweat slipping off the back of your leffa nut Reminds me of the days when eatin' lunch with ol' Sammy I would drink apple juice and he would eat salammie Um, on Wonder Bread I think with the crust cut off At the corner of Magill and McLoughlen Street I would be seated, he would be my spectacle He may have been a bum but still Sammy was respectable Telling me stories about the things that he done Kickin' verbs from a past that was over and gone Was the way Sammy liked to spend his day And if he was alive still, this is what he'd say It's strange Lord, it's strange You've got to pick up every stitch You've got to pick up every stitch Two rabbits runnin' in a ditch Woah no Must be the season of the witch, yeah yeah Must be the season of the witch Surprising it may sound to the orbs of the nebula But Sammy had a theory that his atoms were irregular Twisted maybe, bunny crazy in a petri dish Neurological schemes inside the minds of a scientist Molding forms eatin' worms Sammy told me he's immune to germs And that monkeys eyes scare him when he's at the zoo 'Cause monkeys see what you eat And monkeys see what you didn't do Or what you did, and Sammy wasn't kiddin' He told me all about the treasures and where they're hidden And I'm-a go diggin' on a Saturday And if he was alive still, this is what he'd say It's strange Lord, it's strange You've got to pick up every stitch (sing it again now) You've got to pick up every stitch Two rabbits runnin' in a ditch Woah no (woah no) Must be the season of the witch, yeah yeah Must be the season of the witch Sammy told me that in the end we are infinite We owe the birds a bee and to the bees we are indebted That history is set by old llamas who were setted In the past were created from the Castor Oil Said to follow all my leads 'til I collect the spoils And conversate with trees 'cause they bark is truly loyal Like a dog with three legs swimmin' in the ocean I wish this was my wisdom but it's Sammy that I'm quotin' Cuz his knowledge was profound in a world full of glitches And Sammy been around since the season of the witches Dropping knowledge on my memory that won't fade away And if he was alive still, this is what he'd say It's strange Lord, it's strange You've got to pick up every stitch (yeah pick 'em all up now) You've got to pick up every stitch Two rabbits runnin' in a ditch Wa-wa-wa-woah no (woah no) Must be the season of the witch Must be the season of the witch Must be the season of the witch, y'all Peace, Sammy