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Hrithik's Character Rohit Mehra's Six Finger Satellite, a Series of Lessons for Guitars

from Yes Boss by Graham Smith & KGW



Where to even begin with what ended up being the final title here. You can refer to this one as "Hrithik," I tried to avoid being hurtful or offensive in my final selection but as per usual I failed in that regard IMHO.


So I'm just chillin'
With this length of rope you gave me
Trying to figure out if maybe
It's enough to hang myself

And right now,
I'm leaning towards probably
For all my armchair philosophy
I'm not doing so well

So I sit
On the corner of the bed
Mechanically repeat each word I said
To find a rhythm
To fit
The grim tenor of this room
And I know you love to misconstrue
The way and things you think I really think of you
But I'm not missing you one bit

I hear you've been living
Room to room and town to town,
A hair from down and out,
More up and down, and round and round
But right now, I'm picturing you dissing me
To dilettantes and philistines
You always talked too loud

But you'll shut
Your mouth again no matter what
Comes out you'll end up eating
Humble pie with a side of your words and foot
And you'll whimper like a hairless dog in winter
And be spared the fog of intercourse
Your bird is cooked
You heard me, look me in the eyes

And tell me you don't see
A man who never even tried to love you
Gather the clues and evidence, it doesn't take a gumshoe
To figure out what I'm about and what I have been up to
But whatever, you had your turn, you lost, thank you and fuck you

But it's always a struggle, I'll concede that fact
We live in a bubble, you sleep in the same clothes every night
Each time I'm in trouble, I get a brief flashback
To when my thoughts weren't muddled
And it didn't take so many words to be subtle

Back then I needed the weak, silent type
Someone whose ignorance was virus-like
Someone who smiled despite all
The intermittent chaos in their line of sight
And still tried to fight

You say you've got nothing, I don't believe you though
I know when you're bluffing, your brow tends to twitch like an insect's wing
Were you worth your stuffing, you'd harness your need to go
On and on about your loving
And focus more on maybe doing something

Cause I'm afraid your current tack
Is leading you astray, and as for turning back
You're just no good at that
You tried your hardest but you never could adapt
And now you're as good as trapped

But you can't make an omelet without putting all your eggs into one basket
And it's just not a funeral without an open casket
You win a few, you lose a lot, you leverage your losses
Regroup, rebuild and soon enough you hemorrhage your profit


from Yes Boss, released June 9, 2008
(c) Graham Smith, Thayer McClanahan


all rights reserved



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A prolific songwriter, a cracking tight independent indie rock band for live entertainment, and a fine art parody magazine about what computers think about human thoughts about their fine art

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