The Muffin Man is seated at the table in the laboratory of the Utility Muffin
Research Kitchen... Reaching for an oversized chrome spoon he gathers an
intimate quantity of dried muffin remnants and brushing his scapular aside
procceds to dump these inside of his shirt...
He turns to us and speaks:
SOME PEOPLE LIKE CUPCAKES BETTER. I FOR ONE CARE LESS FOR THEM!
Arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of a fully charged icing
anointment utensil he poots forths a quarter-ounce green rosette (oh ah yuk
yuk... let's try that again...!) He poots forth a quarter-ounce green rosette
near the summit of a dense but radiant muffin of his own design.
Later he says:
SOME PEOPLE... SOME PEOPLE LIKE CUPCAKES EXCLUSIVELY, WHILE MYSELF, I SAY
THERE IS NAUGHT NOR OUGHT THERE BE NOTHING SO EXALTED ON THE FACE OF GOD'S GREY
EARTH AS THAT PRINCE OF FOODS... THE MUFFIN!
Girl you thought he was a man
But he was a muffin
He hung around till you found
That he didn't know nuthin'
Girl you thought he was a man
But he only was a-puffin'
No cries is heard in the night
As a result of him stuffin'

The
Hate
U
Give

Little
Infants
Fucks
Everybody

Men walkin long the railroad tracks
Goin someplace theres no goin back
Highway patrol choppers comin up over the bridge
Hot soup on a campfire under the bridge
Shelter line stretchin round the corner
Welcome to the new world order
Families sleepin in their cars in the southwest
No home no job no peace no rest
The highway is alive tonight
But nobodys kiddin nobody about where it goes
Im sittin down here in the campfire light
Searchin for the ghost of tom joad
He pulls a prayer book out of his sleeping bag
Preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag
Waitin for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last
In a cardboard box neath the underpass
Got a one-way ticket to the promised land
You got a hole in your belly and gun in your hand
Sleepin on a pillow of solid rock
Bathin in the city aqueduct
The highway is alive tonight
Where its headed everybody knows
Im sittin down here in the campfire light
Waitin on the ghost of tom joad
Now tom said mom, wherever theres a cop beatin a guy
Wherever a hungry newborn baby cries
Where theres a fight against the blood and hatred in the air
Look for me mom Ill be there
Wherever theres somebody fightin for a place to stand
Or a decent job or a helpin hand
Wherever somebodys strugglin to be free
Look in their eyes mom youll see me.
Well the highway is alive tonight
But nobodys kiddin nobody about where it goes
Im sittin down here in the campfire light
With the ghost of old tom joad