[La, La, La, La, La, La. Oh hello there. This is your old pal Grover here.. Oh I am so glad you are here. I was just here all by myself you know.. Oh, but that's okay. I can do lots of things when I'm alone.].
The night keeps reaching on and on. Kill the sun, bury the dawn. A race begins that no one ever seems to win. The line remains unbroken. Smashing the doors wide open.
Cats have kittens. Doggies have pups. Horses have pretty foals. And sheep have lambs. Cows have calves. And I bet you didn't know. That elephants have calves, too.
It's just cruel. It's just mean. I should've let this stay unseen. . I don't believe that something's wrong. I don't believe that something's wrong. .
Why, I've found perfection now it slips through my grasp. Child, you touch me now as life flows through my hands. Gray skies have been broken. (I'll never see the warmth of your eyes).
(David is standing by a bench with a "Wet Paint" sign. Gordon enters.). . David: Wet paint.. . (Gordon sits on bench.). . David: Never sit where you see "Wet Paint.".
Having awareness but no true sense of self. You find yourself enslaved in chains of earthly wealth. The unending chatter that plagues the mind. Confusion will be all that you find.
Take your brush and gently dip it. Be careful not to drip it. Wet paint. ( background singing cows "wet paint,wet paint"). . Wet your roller then you roll it.
Scream out against the glass. The sound reflected unable to escape. Desperate to connect. Lashing out at words that fail to appear. . Bound in silence.
Maria: The dress! The dress - it's time to make the dress. It's gotta be the best, forget about the rest. I'm getting married! And today it's all about the dress!.
There is a darkness to the world. Too blind to see. You can't believe. That your way of life is dying. Strike at the heart of the machine. Dispel the poison.
As the axe comes crashing down. Dragging us beneath the ground. Abandoned here you're gone without a sound. . All you've taken, all you've said. Still hear your voice inside my head.
Build, little weaver bird. Build, little weaver bird. Build, little weaver bird. Happy [?] 'cross the sky. . Raindrops fall, weaver bird. [Something]s fly.
Ever since I was a baby in the bog. I was always a curious little frog. I remember asking mama when I was five. I asked her what it was to be alive. .
We are given the gift of creation. . We are given. All of the light. And purity of the universe. . We are the ones. Who will create. The snarling beasts of human nature.
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the republic for which it stands. One nation indivisible. With liberty and justice for all.
Cookie: Hi everybody. Me so hungry for cookies me could scream. But we won't find cookies in park. Wait. What's that? Cowabunga! Wait, it no can be. It is! It's a cookie tree! Me no can believe this!.
A crack forms in the foundation. Well fault line through your defenses. Illuminating the essence. Once clouded by the myth. . Store bought conformity.
(Mom monster rocking a baby monster in a crib. Girl monster, Frieda, looks on). . Frieda: Mom brought a bundle home the other day. It wasn't groceries.
Staring forward with vacant eyes. Imagination cannot survive. Misinformation and compromise. These televised, conditioned lies. Create a system of belief.