Formed from fistfulls of fertile North American soil, The Garden Clots travel collaboratively across genres, borders, beliefs, and political perspectives.
The boy is guided from above
Under the guise of maternal love
Making sure he can’t be hurt
Mother’s boy behind her skirt
In no way shall he be exposed
No boyish prank, no bloody nose
No scabby knee, no dirty clothes
Mother, may I go out to play?
Mother, may I? It’s a sunny day.
In the shadows of a darkened sky
All the crew will shout: “Aye, aye!
The captain’s stare surveys the deck
Who will he blame if they get wrecked?
No one escapes his scrutiny
No chance of any mutiny
Only his might is their unity
Captain, may I stay ashore today?
Captain, may I? It’s a stormy day.
Under the gaze of a silent drone
Angelic eye that protects its own
Secret data that tracks your score
Lets you know if you get more
Smartly tethered to your phone
Them the makers, us the clones
“We guarantee you won’t be alone.
A.I., may I go out to play?
A.I., may I negotiate my pay?
A.I., may I know what I can say?
A.I., may I stay alive today?
