Zola Versus the Plastic Hand

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Mabo Kong

5:20

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Zola wants a plastic hand
For she's a plastic girl
That's Zola
Zola cracks elastic thoughts
On the days that she's practically dead

Eyes like little stones in the ocean
Waves crashing under her skin
Wake the head, what's that light?
Oh my, good god
You know she's right

Zola rues her paper crown
For she's no paper eyes
That's Zola
Zola glues electric verse
To the back of the professor's head

Eyes that look like little explosions
Glass breaking under her skin
Shake the door, eyes gone white
Oh my, good god
I see she's right

The wiles of their barks are abating
Ah, but the incessance will still send you insane
The test of the look is frustrating you
Oh, the strength of the color has waned
The face is down and jaded, while you're stripping the screw
Oh, face it kid, Zola's not for you

Zola needs a metal bed
For she's a metal head
That's Zola
Zola rats a frantic lore
In the weeds of a narrative drag

Eyes that look like little explosions
Glass breaking under her skin
Wake the head, what's that light?
Oh my, good god
You know she's right

I lost a bird who never gonna look me back
She walk away
Anywhere, any way, that is Zola

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