Getting bigger than Myrtle the Turtle, yo

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Blank pages fear me, I blow their doors off.
Heavy artillery I’m all Norman Schwarzkopf
with pencil stubs, ink pens, and crayons.
Voodoo zombie Ouija board séance,

Back from the swamp with an alligator typewriter,
Packs more wallop than Walter Cronkite or
any other newscaster or Cindy Plaster Caster.
Remastered 10-inch, shouldn’t have sassed her

Fast or slow, I’m a 45 on 33.
78 rpm on the Victrola, G.
Say you want a revolution, I spin it
Got my hip waders on, I’m all up in it.

Begin it or end it, either way works
Like Caribou coffee, I’m all about the perks.
Some get irked at this fredlicious flow,
But I’m getting bigger than Myrtle the Turtle, yo.

Stand on the backs of those come before me,
can’t really say that many adore me.
Yet little by little, the word’s getting out,
from a whisper to a scream, then a shout.