Hello! Lovely to see you, and woohoo, it's Friday already. Hooray! Let's kick off the weekend with some more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, shake up the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
This week's song, from rapper Ol' Dirty Bastard, is "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" (**WARNING: EXPLICIT LYRICS, INCLUDING AN F-BOMB** [well, with a stage name like Ol' Dirty Bastard, you were expecting G-Rated lyrics?]) (watch video here [**WARNING: EXPLICIT VIDEO**]). Enjoy.
Shake, Shake, Shake Space Yams
Good! Make optional other neck exercises song.
Memoirs just treasure raw materials.
Yes, we love you to the hyperopia.
Treasure 1.2008, our joy sees stuff.
"Shake, shake, shake space yams," he said.
Yes, the mouthpiece.
Yes, host team, the Brooklyn Dodgers.
A copy of the killer bee colonies,
rain of crotch pupils.
However, factory optional touch panel.
You need a bee killer; would they kill you?
Dynamic bass, I love you forever.
Start ultra portable notebook development.
He said, "Cement ground, Sir."
National ownership of MC-owned 52.
Charmaine, thorns of transform in such a kill hand.
Natural tin-manufacturing business
resources and platforms.
Handy raw materials, private Prada.
I mean the space in the world.
Butt broke the old DB.
I'm not going to tell you.
You are down and style to rock.
There is a pool,
the way of wisdom.
sealed up with East Coast closed.
Solo, all of my colleagues, this unique group.
You have to know the words that come to me.