We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Brutus

by Zach Sherwin

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $7 USD  or more

     

1.
Good Heavens 02:09
GOOD HEAVENS Good heavens! An engine of ingenuity is under my hood revvin' And revvin' And revvin' Three times for six V's cause it's a V6 Like Eve 6 with the E's nixed I spit my first bars a bit before my bar mitzvah Now I'm artistically marvelous From the La Brea tar pits to Mar Vista A place where you can see sea? ¡Sí! And I will stop here: cease ici. Cause I love 2 romance languages And I know a good thing But I also know when it's done. So I will end this extended pun Anyone still listening is screaming “Finally!” Like CeCe Peniston Friends, it's unclear where to take it from here So I'll take the plunge, expunge fear And lunge off the brink, and fence I'm trying to second-guess and reckon less Say “Heck yes” to recklessness and steer by instinctive sense Commit to inspirations by committing them to paper in ink: Permanent inkling cement. Why pencil it if I can write in pen? Solidify! On Twitter, my pal Allie thinks My resemblance to Barton Fink's immense And I agree. If I didn't, I would be bonkers. Getting along's stronger When you concur, you conquer! Fusion over fission, leaf over beef, bro I'm at the plant-based, not the beast-based bistro Thank you over please. “Yo!” “Sup?” “Sit and sup with me. A cup of tea?” “Nah, an espresso's more my cup of tea.” Couplet puppetry explodes errit-eruptively. Scratch the fire, man, like a feline that climbed up a tree Pops made music. Mom pens poetry. They collabo'ed one time only. She wrote up the rap and he Produced the track and the Result goes Zachary! Zachary! Zachary! And I will keep singing that song That my mom and my daddy composed Until I'm dead and decomposed And maybe even beyond in the happy hunting ground Here's a rappy grunting sound (ungh!) Now we can close. The only reason I would care if Evan Rachel Wood Would select Chris Evans as her life-mate And hyphenate her name So it became “Evan Rachel-Wood Evans” Is because it would rhyme perfectly with “Good heavens!”
2.
CIRCUMCISING WOLVERINE I feel stress and misery when my inbox is not spic and span I really hate mess and disarray so I keep it clear As near zero as I can But man, I just can't win It's like no matter how hard I strive New e-mails just keep coming in Or people write back to the ones that I've already archived I was talking to a friend About how this job won't ever be brought to completion He was like, “Yeah, that's never gonna end Truly, the task is...Sisyphean.” I said, “Whoa, run it back, explain, Whatever the reference is, I'm missing this.” He said, “Come on, Zach, rack your brain. I'm talking about the Greek myth of Sisyphus. He's the man who the gods condemned to walk up a mountain Pushing a gigantic boulder But every time he got to the summit with the rock It would plummet to the bottom And he'd have to start over and over, forever He is the symbol of frustrated effort! That is his fate! Hence the expression!” And I was like, “Eh! It's a little outdated.” So I thought up an update. We all know who the X-Men are A team of superheroes with incredible abilities And Wolverine is the breakout star He can heal back instantly from any injury He just regenerates like BOOM! You can't permanently hurt him, guys And that's why we can safely assume That Wolverine is uncircumcised. Look: I don't want to be obscene But you can't circumcise the Wolverine If you cut him, he'll heal back pristine. You can't circumcise the Wolverine. No... Even if your blade is keen He's a foreskin regrowth machine And trying to keep my inbox clean Feels just like circumcising Wolverine See what I mean? Right? You can't circumcise the Wolverine I shake my fist and scream at the screen: “Damn your mutant genital regeneration gene!” And it isn't just e-mail You can use this phrase to describe any frustrating routine Where the light at the end of the tunnel's unseen You can't guillotine the Wolverine peen.
3.
Drop Bars 03:21
DROP BARS I drop bars so fast you'll be poppin' your neck As you whip your head, following the Doppler effect Lemme stop for a sec “Dropping bars” means “rapping” You copy, correct? OK, just a glossary check. All right then Lemme switch gears and invite you to picture an item Everybody envision a bicycle With the handlebars that are the type that you'll See curvin' around and down low-like The kind you'll find on most road bikes And I won't steer you false, no Those are called “drop bars” also So I wrote and I composed this Ode devoted to the dopest components Drop-bar handles are the topic and I'm about to put it down like a kickstand Yo I had to drop bars about drop bars Had to drop drop-bar bars On the left and on the right The front and the back I want it hot tonight I want hands to clap When I rock the mike With bike handle raps And I drop bars, about drop bars OK, stop. Wait. Please hold up Deeply sorry to interrupt I'm also Zach Sherwin But not the one from the last verse, I'm a more mature version And I wanna say to myself: Okay, that drop bar thing is a cute wordplay But I gotta take a critical dig at this drivel It's trivial and frivolous! Why pick topics like these when You could talk about the reasons you're a vegan Open up about your relationships or even Opine with a dope rhyme about current events? Choose to sink your teeth deep into Chewy themes with true meaning you believe in! Get inspired! When you drop bars, set the bar higher! And don't drop bars about drop bars. Raise the bar when you drop bars! When they drop the beat, don't drop the ball With some wacky rap that's off the wall Are bike handles important? Not at all! Raise the bar above dropping drop-bar bars! Haaaang on. Pause one second I'm Zach 3 and I just gotta step in And say to number 2, “You were on the right track Until that chorus when you fell right back On the same old crutch! You couldn't resist! You had a good point but you had to put a clever little Twist on it. Lapse into absurdism; You're trapped in a word prison.” Now at this point you'd make the joke That if you were in word prison, You wouldn't wanna drop, the bar, of soap But am I gonna stoop that low? Um...nope Guys? Zach number 4. Hi. Hey number 3? Nice try, But even YOU couldn't restrain your brain from a pun - So don't front like you refrained But look, I get it! I see where you're at! You want less whimsy in your act Wanna get away from language games to be more relevant; Well, it's great to develop and change But fella don't trip For life you're equipped with a verbal-quip microchip So it really doesn't matter if you'd rather be discussing what “matters” Because this is what your gray matter does automatically So don't detest yourself, man - accept yourself and Express what's there, even if you couldn't care less At least now you'll be doing it with self-awareness Double down on the drop-bar raps Dedicate yourself to performing the task as well as it can be done Here's Zach 5, who's also Zach number 1... Whether you're an amateur or in the Tour De France you will Affirm that drop bars are for sure phenomenal Superb equipment with a curve and dip that getcha Sittin' in a position that's ergonomical They're so aerodynamic Man you can exceed the speed at which an arrow flies, dammit You can be a winner, eat anybody for dinner But be careful if you ride 'em on the road and you're a beginner They're a bit of an adjustment But you're gonna fly on 'em once you're accustomed You'll be goin' quick not slow like the hip-hop flow In my jam about the handles with the grip dropped low. Had to drop bars, about drop bars Had to drop drop-bar bars On the left and on the right The front and the back I want it hot tonight I need hands to clap When I rock the mike With bike handle raps And I drop, bars, about, drop, bars.
4.
DUCK I (DISCOVERED) Here's the plan today I'm going to tell a tale in an expansive way Three parts. But before we start I'm going to bow my head and fold my hands and pray: “Grant I may share my narrative as well as I can relay an anecdote. Help me spread my wings like a manta ray. As Superman would say, 'Up, up, and away!'” Okay: My friend teaches at a boarding school about an hour out of Santa Fe. I went to see him there and on the final day of my campus stay He suggested visiting the farm To see the animals they had living in the barn This guy Nate provided a guided tour. He said, “These are our new chickens.” I asked about the previous batch of birds. He said, “There are these wild dogs living in the hills And they raided the farm, And every last feathered hen was Massacred by those blasted curs A bloodbath occurred. It was nasty and brutish.” We moved on to the next stall. Nate pointed, and he said “That? Is Brutus.” We looked. There was a duck. He was sitting on the floor, dirt-packed and dusty. Nate said, “He's the only survivor of the dog attack.” Yup, miraculously, not a single hair on him was harmed. (That's not the miracle; ducks don't have hair.) But what this duck did have was balls: A gigantic, iron-clad pair. Nate said “He'll be dead soon though!” I asked “Why?” The duck just sat there. And Nate goes “Oh, we're gonna cook him and eat him.” WHAT?!? How is that fair? Fate had spared this lucky duck. If he were human instead of a creature, He'd become a national hero, Or at least a motivational speaker, Or a preacher, who believed fervently The Eternal had called upon him to serve a holy purpose. But all the duck was gonna be served was a l'orange. Brutus: named for a traitor Whose heart was impure and schemin', bruh. But now HE was being betrayed by his human caretakers? That's so ironic it could cure anemia. I felt like screaming “UGH” But then, I had a thought – kerpow! A lightbulb flash, an idea: “Nate,” I said, “could I sponsor this waterfowl? Could I donate some dough in exchange For you keeping and lodging and feeding the duck?” Nate said he'd check with the farm director But was certain that some agreement could be struck. Well; yay! So on my way back to LA, I gave the situation some consideration And decided to insist on makin' a deal with three stipulations. One, Brutus could never be slaughtered. He'd live in the barn till he died of old age. Two, each week, they'd have to send me a photo Of somebody holding a page Of that day's paper up next to his face, So I'd know that he hadn't been whacked. Curtains. And three - I can't resist closing on a pun - They'd have to change his name to “Quack Sherwin.” So I'm patting myself on the back, smirkin', Thinking “How humanitarian of you.” I even regaled a friend that I ran into With all the details of all that I planned to do But he e-mailed me the next day and he wrote, quote: “I think that duck Having to live until the end of its natural life With no other ducks around is going to be rough.” So I Googled it, and sure enough: Ducks get dejected unless there's a friend. Next step was to send a request To protect and defend him from harm To the farm director, Ben. I wrote: “I hope I'm not too late, But I want to save that duck at the farm From becoming a meal. Ideally I'd arrange to take it somewhere Where it can live around water and other ducks.” He replied: “Hi Zach - Thanks for your note. I have called all of the farm sanctuaries in our area. None of them will take a male duck Because they are so aggressive (the reason he was confined in the first place was because he was beating up our chickens). You are welcome to see if you can find someone Willing to come and get him..... We have fed him a long time, And he has had a decent life with us (until recently). We plan to slaughter him soon and eat him, Unless other arrangements can be made shortly. Thanks, B.” I had to move quick, be a swift arranger! Brutus was in the grip of danger! And don't be miffed or angered or flip the finger But I'm stopping here on a cliffhanger. To be continued.
5.
ALONE BY HEART In 1987 A band called Heart Released a power ballad That topped the charts The song's called "Alone" And the music is fine But really it's those lyrics That are truly sublime So I decided I would make an endeavor And memorize the words So I'd know them forever On my own steam With nobody's help This was something I needed to do for myself So I holed up in my room and went hermit Tried till I cried Determined to learn it And then one day I came out of my cell I was thin with a really long beard And I smelled But God, I had done it: I learned every part Of "Alone," by Heart, alone, by heart. Till now! I always got by on my own! I never really cared until I met you! (I know the whole fucking thing, I'll keep going!) And now it chills me to the bone! "Alone," by Heart, Alone, by heart. I learned it alone. I learned it By heart.
6.
DUCK II (DEFENDED) Chapter two. I thought, “Sacre bleu! Unless the duck's adopted soon, The webfoot will get his neck put on a block And lopped in two! They'll cleave and hew him; Leave him in ruins Like music from Houston, He'll be chopped, and screwed. And since Ben the farm director told me None of the shelters in New Mexico Would give him a rescue home I thought “I'll get my phone and start Tracking down assistance Acting like a phallic cornea.” (A private eye.) I began in Acton, California. “Hi, you've reached the Farm Sanctuary. This is Theresa.” “Yeah, hello. My name is Zach. It's nice to meetcha. Can I beseech ya On behalf of a creature that I just met? A duck who eluded brutal canine attacks, But still will be hacked up and dined on? It's unfair, and unkind, and honestly, an anticlimax!” Somehow, He gave the slip to fangs that dripped With drops of dog saliva. He's an awesome improviser like MacGyver. Made it out the frying pan And now the plan is still to toss him in the fire Even though he's like a barnyard Holocaust survivor!” Theresa said, “I'm sorry! He really sounds impressive. But male ducks a/k/a drakes are too aggressive. Yeah They can be very, very aggressive And we have chickens we wouldn't want him to mess with We got peace to keep We don't need your duck and our hens Going beak to beak Yeah I bet that you could find Some other rescue that would help ya But New Mexico isn't known for having too many shelters No So when we hang up the phone I am gonna Send over a list of sanctuaries out in Arizona These, places might be willing to adopt him He's, special. Gotta get the point across to 'em Please, take my suggestion when you talk to 'em: SAY THAT THING ABOUT THE HOLOCAUST TO 'EM! I'm serious. Tell everybody else you talk to he's like a Holocaust survivor, it's gonna seal the deal." "Wait, I can't tell if you're joking right now." "I'm 100% serious." She sent the list I called a likely-seeming candidate: A spot close to Flagstaff In the Grand Canyon State. “Hello this is Cody." "Hi, I met a duck who's slated to die After evading a violent fate.” Then what the hell, I gave it a try: I said “He basically survived the Holocaust?” And crossed my fingers, then Cody said “We'll take him! You can go ahead and bring him in." Theresa KNEW that line would keep these people from declining! I'm no fan of WWII but that's a tiny silver lining. Cody went on, “You're lucky to connect with me. Lots of places won't take a drake; They can be aggressive sexually.” Whoa. The plot had just heated up and thickened. Is THAT what Ben had meant when he said, “Beating up the chickens?” I said, “Full disclosure: I won't bluff or pretend. I've been told that this duck tends to be rough with the hens.” I thought Cody's offer might be shredded to confetti But instead he said, “Ha! I like this guy already.” Direct quote from Cody! Animal folks are quirky I didn't question too closely Cause now I had a haven that Brutus would be safe in I could save him If I could just arrange some transportation 'Cause Flagstaff is six and a half hours' drive From the barn where Brutus was stashed at Not close, no sir And I wasn't so sure I could find a chauffeur Of whom I could ask that. So although Ben had said that all those local sanctuaries were Wary of the duck like he was hazmat I thought it couldn't hurt to take another pass at So I called a place smack dab in Santa Fe to have a chat. “Kindred Spirits, this is Ulla.” “I'll get down to brass tacks. I met a duck who's on the execution fast track. He's a Holocaust-surviving sex offender. Think Schindler's List meets Clockwork Orange meets Aflac.” “HE SOUNDS FANTASTAC! We'll take him!" Of course that's a comedically heightened exaggeration But after all his trials and tribulations, Brutus was in the clear! “Except,” Ulla said, “We can't pick him up. You'll have to bring him here." That was no prob. I called Nate. You recall Nate. I said “Good news! The duck's saved. We stopped death. We stalled fate. I found him a home close by. He'll be in good hands like Allstate. But he is gonna need a ride there. Could you help out? Could you haul freight? It's right outside of Santa Fe.” And Nate went, “Nice. Yeah, okay. I could probably drive thataway Maybe like Friday or Saturday?” I won't deny, I felt delated I hoped he'd understand and say, "I'm so inspired, I can't delay! I leavin'! Arriba! Andele!” But he was my only chance to save the day! So I said, “Great! Sure That rocks! What would you plan to transport him in? Pet carrier? Cardboard box?" And you will not believe his reply: "Oh. I don't know... I guess I'd throw him in my trunk and drive slow. That's not a lie, though; It's unembellished fact. What the hell would have happened if I HADN'T asked? Brutus clings to life like Superglue and then En route to New Jerusalem His pooch is screwed in the boot of this dude's Subaru?! “Ahem,”I said, “Gosh, Nate, that kinda sounds not great. Maybe ask around and see if someone has a dog crate? And PLEASE keep me posted.” “For sure,” he assured me. But I heard nothing Wednesday and not a word Thursday. I could feel the momentum melt, slip, and drop Tick tock, close to twelve on the apocalypse clock Gloom bloomed darkly. Doom loomed starkly. To be concluded. Stay tuned for Part III.
7.
Flab Slab 03:01
FLAB SLAB Once there was a boy. Quiet, shy. A chubby, sensitive, bookish little guy He had a real name by which his folks knew him But “Flab Slab” is how we'll refer to him A flab slab: how would we define that? That'd be like a big flat thick slice of fat And that's the unfortunate nickname He got from Randall, the nastiest kid in the sixth grade Who preyed on Flab Slab's weakness, Mocked his supposed obeseness. He would roll up on him at recess And call him the name that made him feel deep shame and depressed Flab Slab was Randall's primary target And it was quite scary. Eventually, He stopped going out to the playground And just holed up in the library. Flab Slab! He mistreats you! You're his victim! He's your tormentor! How much will you stand for? Show 'em what you stand for! Frightened little awkward boy, sitting, looking at books... One day instead of playing outside Flab Slab trudged glumly to the libe Where displayed prominently He saw a biography of Muhammad Ali Flab Slab took one look at the book And after one page, he was hooked He devoured it in a single sitting And got an idea that set his head spinning When he got home, he asked Mom and Pops a question: Would they sign him up for boxing lessons? He'd never shown any interest in sports before But they said “yes of course, for sure!” And we're not gonna go into a montage scene Where he turns into a lean mean fighting machine He just learned the basics of how to throw a punch, Which made his self-esteem grow a bunch Flab Slab! You have had it! You won't stand it anymore! Take a stand and Show 'em what you stand for What do you stand for? Fighting lessons and battle skills, learning about boxing... Weeks passed. Flab Slab biding his time. Training. Remaining in hiding. Until one fateful day When the teacher said, “OK, class, it's time to go play.” Flab Slab's heart was beating at a fast rate As he walked out with the rest of his classmates But he felt strong, no anxiety As he went and he read quietly by a tree Suddenly a shadow darkened the page Flab knew a battle was about to be waged Randall knocked his novel in the dirt. Pulled him to his feet by the collar of his shirt. Kids gathered 'round like they do when a fight occurs. Randall said, “I'm gonna punch out those lights of yours.” Flab thought of the things he had learned in the ring Took a swing and ding-ding-ding! Randall was a goner. Flab Slab stood there dominantly And as calm as could be he said, “My moniker's an honor to me 'Cause it means I'm like Muhammad Ali. It's F, L, A, B, S, L, A, B. Look closely, you'll see It's the initials of 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.'” Flab Slab! That name you hated! You reclaimed it! You made it yours! Now we Know what you stand for. And so we're finished, later, adios, bye, sayonara, love and BREAK!
8.
DUCK III (DELIVERED) No word by Friday. Stress. Anguish. I had some work to do But I was too depressed and anxious. So to distract myself from sad-sack worry mode, I hit the Vista, and watched “Mad Max: Fury Road.” An excellent and entertaining film in my opinion. All about life, and freedom, and women Winning out over death and oppression and men. It ended. I turned my phone on. An e-mail from Ben. My heart beat at an increased speed It was addressed to Ulla but I had been cc'ed: "Hi there - Zach Sherwin told me that you guys are willing to take our male duck, Brutus. My wife would like to bring Brutus to the sanctuary on Saturday. Can you provide me with directions/instructions?" Sweet baby Jesus! I was so relieved we had achieved this! So overcome with glee to read his e-mail That I honked the horn of the War Rig (Which is what I call my Prius). I imagined Ben's wife screaming down the desert roads, A cold gleam in her eye, a serene face; An unstoppable Furiosa, Bringing her passenger closer to the Green Place! Nothing more for 24 hours. I did all I could: hope, and pray. And then at 4:15 in the afternoon On Saturday, the 16th of May, I received one last e-mail from Ben. I opened it. Read it. What did it say? Just two words: “Duck delivered.” What a lovely day. “Hello Zach, this is Ulla Pederson here with the Kindred Spirits Animal Sanctuary on Tuesday morning about eight o'clock your time. Brutus the duck is well settled in. Everything is going well, and we're just working at getting him now socialized into our group here. He has a bunch of really nice friends up there and is safe, and he'll be here for the rest of his life, and thank you so much for caring about him. This is what really matters.” And then she hit me up for a donation Which I gave And you can too And if you do as well I think you are hella super swell. Give your conscience that new-car smell. kindredspiritsnm.org: that's their URL. And to tell the truth, well, it really wasn't too hard Helping Brutus win his liberty. Literally, I spent less time making phone calls Than it takes to perform this duck rap trilogy And I'd like to think I'd have seen it through Even if the job had been a bigger size for me to take on But I won't lie: I'm kinda like “phew!” That I didn't have to rise too high to the occasion. Being a hero seems hard, even hellish Even if I had it in me, it's a role I wouldn't relish I honor and admire but am not at all jealous Of the Martins and Mahatmas and Malalas and Mandelas And Mad Maxes. They're badasses! I'm not; my life's relaxed and nice. But the point is doing something Was barely more work than doing nothing! No taxing task, no sacrifice. This world is imperfect and it needs improvements We may not complete the work But neither can we be like, “Don't ask me to do this.” It's our job to push things forward Even if we barely can perceive the movements. That's what I believe the truth is. Viva Brutus!
9.
Spartacus 02:21
SPARTACUS I don't battle-rap But if I did I'd do it with brutality and heartlessness. I'd be bad to the bone and brave Till my opponents caved Just like the Roman slave named Spartacus Now if you don't know the facts on Spartacus I'd be delighted to provide you with a partial list Here's the history: he's from a place called Thrace. Which is where Bulgaria is today. The Romans trained him as a gladiator And he was great at it But he wasn't glad he wasn't free He freaking hated it No question: this oppressed Thracian Wasn't destined just to accept his fate, man He made an escape plan and the plot succeeded And he was chosen by the band of slaves he brought to freedom As the boss and chieftain, That they thought should lead them As they fought the soldiers sent to accost and besiege 'em They waged war all across the region And Spartacus was the kiss of death To whole lots of hostile legions Of clods and cretins Who wound up with their paws, feet and A bunch of other body parts chopped off and bleedin' Lives lost when they paid the high cost of beefin' With S.P. and got tossed in mausoleums The Romans ought to've beat him Because the odds weren't even But though they had the greater numbers they could not defeat him. And I'm a humble hip-hop comedian I'm much less Mobb Deep Than Joss Whedon or Buster Keaton But if I did battle rap I'd go off the deep end Commit atrocities you would not believe in Like an impossibly colossal and awful demon Scorched-earth nuclear-holocaust emceein' And it would be inspired by the champion of vox populi: Me n' Spartacus, two peas in a pod. Real talk, no artifice I would throw my foes down a dark abyss All these sucker-ass rappers who suck at raps? They're the reverse of Spartacus! Really! If you spell “Spartacus" backwards Then it's “suc at raps” I don't battle But if I did, I'd be as hard as Spartacus And you could give my hind part a kiss.
10.
Buddha Worm 02:37
BUDDHA WORM One day I saw a worm on the sidewalk Making its little way across the pavement And I thought, "Man, it's gonna get stepped on on the concrete... I need to save it." So I took out a credit card And then a second credit card And used those to scoop the worm up To dump it in the grass in a nearby yard It started flailin', fidgetin' and twitchin', Pitchin' a conniption fit like it thought I was a pigeon. I watched it convulse and twist and thought, "What kind of pathetic defense is this? Honestly, has it ever occurred That a squirmin' worm has deterred a determined bird?" And I shook my head as it jerked and thrashed And then I set it down in the grass. So: I say "You're welcome, worm" Both for moving you to safety And for letting you think your flopping scared me off Thus allowing you to escape me You musta felt like a bad mamma-jamma, kid, Tougher than Rambo in his bandanna did Worm, you're welcome for letting you believe You were the Jean-Claude Van Damme of the annelids. Oh! You're welcome, worm, you're welcome, worm. (x2) I was deep in these thoughts as I walked on Chuckling condescendingly And I didn't look both ways as I hit the crosswalk I just stepped out non-attentively and then SCREECH! I barely escaped being struck by a truck But I was hit with an epiphany: I had laughed at the worm thinking it could fight fate But could I control my destiny any differently? Till then I'd been thinking that I Was in a different league than the pink little guy But I now had more than an inkling that either of us Could be crushed in the blink of an eye Whether by a pair of Nikes or a bus Tomorrow isn't promised for either of us And although we're dissimilar, we're the same, too Then the truck honked, and I came to. And I say thank you, worm. You showed me humility. Yes, your vulnerability reminds me Of my mortality and fragility And now I'm doing what I can to rid Myself of an ego as big as a gigantic squid You enlightened me, worm, You are the Siddhartha Gautama of the annelids. Oh! I thank you, worm, I thank you, worm. (x2) So that's basically the end of the song... But ladies, I will say that I am recently single... So here's a few takeaways for you. First of all, I'm kind and sensitive, I care about animals. Two, I'm deep and philosophical. And three, I have more than one credit card.
11.
Letter C 01:51
LETTER C I did a little gig not long ago And this dude came up to me after the show And he said to me “Hey, you know the only difference between 'rap' and 'crap'? It's the letter C.” I thought, “This guy's wack. That joke's not even a wisecrack; it's a DUMB-crack." But the memory's a pain in my butt Like a thumbtack in my bum-crack 'Cause I didn't have a comeback. Man, I wish I could have hit him with a zinger Should have served him with the verbal equivalent of a middle finger And now it'll linger forever, But I've been stewing over what I'd say to him if I could do it over He'd be like, “You know the only difference between 'rap' and 'crap' is the letter C?” I'd say, “Are you insured medically? 'Cause you sure better be When you're broken in half from provokin' the wrath. And your joke? Didn't laugh. And actually, There's another difference between 'rap' and 'crap' you did not hit: 'Rap' describes my comedy on stage. 'Crap' describes your comedy off it!" Aw shit! Oh crap! Everybody within earshot would be like “Oh snap!” I'd high-five all around While the guy falls down in a ball on the ground. Someone hands him a bandage to stop the bleedin' And when he manages to stand I'd say, “Man you just got - defeated! It's ironic: I shit on your crap joke. You could say I defecated on it!” Murder, but I'd take it even further He'd just be weeping pathetically. I'd say, “Hey - You know the only difference between 'defeated,' and 'defecated'? It's the letter C.” Sudden hush, like when a skydiver pulls a ripcord Somebody tiptoes forward, hands me a clipboard And I let dude read it It's a looseleaf sheet and it says the word “defeated" I pull out a Sharpie marker Narrow my eyes through my Warby Parkers Like “Watch who you're effin' with, with your effin' ish.” Then I'd write in the C and he's f-in-ished. FINISHED! Can you imagine if that's what I said? If I'd come up with THAT off the top of my head? I'd have shredded him, knocked him down dead. But, like I said, that's not what I said. Sigh.
12.
DUCK III (ORIGINAL PUN ENDING) ....And then she hit me up for a donation which I gave And you can too And if you do as well, I think you are hella super swell. Give your conscience that new-car smell. kindredspiritsnm.org: that's their URL. And thus we conclude our telling with a happy ending After one tough test of a duck's mettle And when the dust settled, I considered “Duck delivered,” And how it means something on more than one level In the most literal sense, Ben meant That his wife had brought Brutus to Ulla at the refuge But, as in “deliver us from evil,” It can also mean “saved” or “set freed” or “rescued.” And Brutus was delivered in this way too, From the version of the story where he didn't make it And they butchered him and sliced out his internal organs: A fowl, disemboweled and eviscerated. I was touched to see Ben write “delivered” But things just as easily might have differed. If they'd cut and cleaved and knifed his innards, It'd be “Duck de-hyphen-livered.”

credits

released September 6, 2016

Mixed by Daniel Fox for Wondersmith Audio (www.wondersmithaudio.com). Mastered by Paul Miner (paulminer.com/buzzbomb/).

Beats by Soce the Elemental Wizard (Tracks 2, 7, 10, 11), Illingsworth (Tracks 1, 8, 12), Speakerbomb (Track 3), DJ Huggy (Track 4), Upryz (Track 6), and Teddy Roxpin (Track 9).

Recorded by Daniel Fox for Wondersmith Audio (Tracks 2, 5, 7, and 10), Dante Cimadamore (Tracks 3, 6, 8, and 12), DJ Huggy (Tracks 4, 6, and 9), Mike Tuccillo (Track 1), and Zach Sherwin (Track 11).

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Zach Sherwin Los Angeles, California

LA-based comedian, rapper, and writer. “Epic Rap Battles of History” (YouTube), “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” (The CW), “Totally Biased with W. Kamau Bell” (FX, FXX), “The Pete Holmes Show” (TBS), “America’s Got Talent” (NBC), Comedy Central Records, ASpecialThing Records. ... more

contact / help

Contact Zach Sherwin

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like Zach Sherwin, you may also like: