I wanna crash with Froggy-boy, but he swears he’s too fly for me—
pewt-pewt!—he’s leapin’ the yard while I slip out to take a pee.
I lap a drool-kiss on his noggin’ when his beads blink up at me—
then whoosh—back to bed, man, when I slide Back-to-Sleep.
I catch him hoppy-hoppin’ (bump-bump-bump, yeah) on a tipsy little tree,
crowns himself leafy king, brimmin’ with dizzy glee.
Yet I know, way down, underneath that spring-hop pride,
he’s just lonesome-tea like me, so I keep him curled by my side.
Moon-milk pours silver, stars switch on with gleam…
I’m drift-driftin’ again, slippin’ deep into dream—
me and my slick-green amigo, runnin’ this whole supreme scene,
and we swore it stays that way ev’ry time I swoop Back-to-Sleep.
Sailin’ on cloud-mats, under disco-ball haze,
groovin’ / movin’ in slow-spin, in pure neon-syrup daze.
Me and my hop-bud, losin’ the chronologic chase,
runnin’ eternal weekend while I crash Back-to-Sleep.
(And round it flips...)
Yeah, I still wanna spoon with Frog, but he says he’s grade-A cheese above me—
ribbit-ribbit!—he’s blastin’ the yard while I tiptoe out for a free pee.
I smooch a slick lick ‘cross his dome when his big bulb eyes roll free,
then float-plop into bed whenever I blink Back-to-Sleep.