Wack Synapse

I’m not talking ‘bout the wax on my floor
Not talking ‘bout the wax in my ears
I’m not talking ‘bout a rap on my door
Or anything you hear

Or anything you say
Or anything you might have written
Wack synapse hits my brain

I’m not talking ‘bout polishing my car
Or going for a ride
Not talking ‘bout whacking a baseball hard enough
To get an inside-the-park home run
I’m just talking about the way that it feels

When a wack synapse hits your brain
You get a big idea and they tell you it’s insane
But then a black black day begins to look OK

I got an idea
Made a plan
Which gives me hope
Now all I need is a five-gallon can
A couple of paperclips
And a piece of rope

I’ve not fallen from my tree
Just up to see what I can see

I’m not talking ‘bout whacking my boss
Or yanking my dental floss
Not thinking ‘bout rhyming every stupid line
Until I get my point across
Just talking about the way that it feels

When a wack synapse hits your brain
You get a big idea and they tell you it’s insane
But then a black black day begins to look OK

I got an idea
Made a plan
Which gives me hope
Now all I need is a radiator fan
About a dozen hula-hoops
And a bucket of soap
Gonna make spectacular trouble
Once I find my hose

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