So I had a strange dream a while back. Some black ops military outfit recruited me to fly on a giant bottle rocket up to fix a satellite. They took me and a few other recruits out to a boat to get outfitted for the mission. I backed out at the last second when I saw that my space suit was literally made out of tissue paper with slits all over it. Another guy still went ahead with the mission and it turns out the satellite was an alien in disguise that spliced up the poor dude's DNA and then rained miniature (pig sized) hippos with crocodile and dinosaur heads down all over the place. I was in a mall at that point and had to kick my way past all these minihippocrocs that were falling out of the sky after I bailed on the mission.
So when I woke up I did what you do in these sort of situations and wrote a song about it. The accompaniment is my vocals and beat box looped on my Electro-Harmonix 45000 4 track looper. Thing Two is peacefully sleeping in my arms - this kind of song is par for the course as far as he is concerned.
Minihippocrocs - Carl Nash
What part of "no" don't you understand?
The minihippocrocs are starting to land
This ain't no time to put your head in the sand
We're talking mini hippopotami with crocodile heads
While up above in the satellite
A pink amoeba is beginning to form
A human face with some pseudopods
A fleshy bubble and gelatinous brain
What part of pain don't you understand
The minihippocrocs are starting to rain
This kind of thing drives a man insane
We're talking mini hippopotami with crocodile brains
Doomed, doomed I say we are
Doomed, doomed, doomed I say
Doomed, doomed, doomed I say we are
Doomed, doomed, doomed I say