The sparkling song and dance man
hustles and shuffles and shimmies his sham.
His wingtips are plated in gold.
His cupboards are bare and his assets all sold.
So he's putting out a call for the lamb.

Boorish and brash, but he'll make you an offer
he holds out his paw and says "First, you fill up my coffer."
Then he gives you all the answers you want,
and you don't give a damn about the dog that won't hunt.
You let him lead you right to the slaughter.

You think he's strong, just like dad was
when he was mad as hell at you.
You think he's tough just like teacher
who used to beat you after school.

Lives in the corner penthouse of his own tower
Howls from the ledge just to see all you little sheep cower.
He's so used to looking down,
he's forgotten how he's even affixed to the ground.
Thinks the roots were made by the flowers.

And you think he's smart, but not, you know, like, book-smart.
He's more like "street-smart" just like you!
You could be right about that part,
cause he sure made a fool of you.


from The Worker Bee, released February 3, 2017
Billy: Guitar/Vocals
Sean: Bass
Jonas: Drums



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I Am Not The Universe Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

A Politically-charged folk-punk/power-pop collective, I Am Not The Universe sings truth to power and afflicts the comfortable, even outside the prearranged free-speech zone.

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