Pepper

[Bill Floyd]

If you don't obey, you'll get a facefull of my hot pepper.

 

If I'm delayed, you'll taste the spray of my hot pepper.

 

Over strip malls and suburban sprawl floats the pall of hot pepper.

 

It used to be spice, now it makes us play nice--hot pepper.

 

If I can't see, I can't disagree--hot pepper.

 

If I can't breathe, I can't believe--hot pepper.

 

 

[Jamie Hogan]

All that machine gun rhythm, all those one syllable words, and a message too? Form and function and my man still manages to drive the point home like an artist. T's right. Your soul is a musician's.

 

Oh, and I can't believe no one's mentioned the tag yet. Hysterical.

[Ron. Lavalette]

very hot, indeed, Mr Floyd.  Great stuff.

[Bill Floyd]

Nice insight by everyone who mentioned that this sounds like a song.  The specific song was Superchunk's "Crossed Wires," but I'm not sure how many folks around here would get that reference.  If you're looking for a pop punk pick-me-up, you could do worse...

[Kristine_ES]

great rhythm...  tough subject. 

maybe a blues song, in the key of george thorogood?

[Teresa]

I believe that deep down.....you always wanted to be a rock star.  It's not too late...;-)  Just kiddin'...sort of.  I can truly hear the music behind this, something similar to "brown sugar" when singing "hot pepper".  Of course, my first thought upon reading this was ovulation driven, a mean mouth-burning shlong coming at a face, spraying a taste, floating "over strip malls and suburban sprawl..."  Sorry.  I'm just wired that way.

[Gita]

If I lose my sight, I can't write --- hot pepper.

You are jammin' today, Mr. Floyd. This rocks.