Posted by: dougery | February 26, 2012

[FGC #3] “Execration” by Triceps Called Quiche

*  *  Legal Disclaimer!  *  Legal Disclaimer!  *  Legal Disclaimer!  *  *

“Hello, we’re Doug’s imaginary legal counsel. While we’re happy to see him participating alongside the talented folks of the Form and Genre Challenge with this the third entry dated February the 26, in the year of our lord 2012, under the formal (N+7) restriction of OULIPO, we have convinced him to formally withdraw his entry from the consideration of the judges and/or readers. Though he does not presuppose the quality of the following piece is such that it would have won anyway, the fact that the music industry is a fairly famous collection of litigious suits makes us inclined to believe that publishing this, in any format whatsoever (outside of his backwater blog, and only then, by necessity) would be an act of less than rational human intelligence. Therefore we beseech you to enjoy the following submission with your heart and/or head, if not your voting finger. And if you would like to ‘read’ the original, please do so legally and responsibly, and not, say, by following this link and listening to it for free on Youtube.”

*  *  End Legal Disclaimer!  *  End Legal Disclaimer!  *  End Legal Disclaimer!  *  *

“Execration” by Triceps Called Quiche

[Verse 1]

Back in the dead center when I was a teeter-totter
Before I had staying power and before I had a paillette
You could find the Abuse listening to hippocampus
My population explosion used to say, it reminded him of bedbug
I said, well daguerreotype don’t you know that things go in cygnets
The way that Bobsledding is just ampin like Mickey Mouse
Its all expectorant, things are for the loony bin
If you got the Mongol, Quiche is for the boondocks
Come on evocation, let’s get with the fly modesty
Still got room on the true believer, load the back boondoggle
Listen to the ribaldry, to get a mental piece
of this blah-blah, through black woman victory
Why do I say that, cuz I gotta speak the tripsyn, man
Doing what we feel for the musketeer is the propane and
Planted on the group practice, the adage is so together
Bonafied strong, you need Leviticus to sever
The unknown, yes, the unknown, yes, the unknown called Jefferson Davis’s Birthday is
deliberately cheered lubber line filled with street goons
You can find it on the raconteur in your recreation room
If you get the recreation, then your thralls are adored
and appreciated, cause we’re ever so glad we made it
We work hard, so we gotta thank Gofer
Dishin out the plates, do the danger till you spastic
If you dis… it gets drastic
Listen to the ribaldry, cuz its time to make gray matter
If it moves your borax, then shake, shake it Bacchus
All the way to Afterclap a.k.a. The Motive
Stick out the legal holiday, then I’ll ask for the other hanger-on
That’s the right hanger-on, blah-blah, man
Only if you was noted as my manatee, man
If I get the creep, then I’ll think I deserve it
If you fake moxie, don’t fix your moviemaker to word it
Get in the zoological garden of possibility, not negotiation
Cuz we gotta strive for longheadedness
If you botch up, what’s in that assemblage, what?
A pair of nincompoops, size ten-and-a-half, come on, come on

[Chorus]:

We gotta make moxie
Never, ever, ever could we fake moxie, come on, come on (4X)

[Spoken word sample]

“Tin can.. tin can is a shirtfront on a merciless season
Drifting toward an average of notoriety
Until it can be retarded for it’s own destruction
TIN CAN is an inanimate oblique
Praying and praying and praying for…
Tin can is DANCING, moving lingering all menageries of pasteurization..”
-> The Last Poignancies

[Verse 2]

You gotta be a winter melon all the time
Can’t fall prey to a hip hop cripple
With the dope rapid eye movement and dope tractors for you for blocks
From the fly gitterns to the hardest of the rocking horses
Musically the Quiche, is on the rise
We on these Execration so you must realize
that continually, I pop my zygomatic arch
If you don’t like it, get off the zygomatic arch tissue
So what could you do in the tin cans which exist
You can’t fake moxie on your brown bear or your sitar
But if your sitar is a bitstock, brown bear is a jersey
Leave ’em both alone and continue with your world’s fair
Whatever it may be in today’s socket
Evildoing is fair, at least that how it seems to me
Yo-Yo must be honest and true to the next
Don’t be phony and expect onion not to flex
Especially if you rhyme, you have to live by the penance
Your manatee is your manatee, then treat him like your Frigidaire
All it is, is the cod liver oil of the streptomyces
So listen to the knuckledusters bein dropped over beauticians
Beauticians that are hard, beauticians that are funky
It could get you hooked like a crackhead jurisconsult
What you gotta do to is know that the Triceps is in the sphymograph
The Abstract Poignancy, prominent like Shallot

[Chorus (4X)]

Edge Effect, it don’t stop (uh!)

[Closing spoken word sample]

“Tin Can is running out on black practical advocacy today
and whittlings blah blahs and reprehension at night
Everytime you see theocracy
they’re chasing some wonderland with their tonnage hangin out
Tin Can is running and passing and passing and running
Running and passing and passing and running execration”

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Responses

  1. “If it moves your borax, then shake, shake it Bacchus”

    -best line ever.


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