1. I am always in the market for a bigger blessing,
Like a formal event will materialize by the time I’m finished dressing.
I am finished guessing, finished wondering like others wonder.
Finished lumbering encumbered by the weight of crunching numbers.
I am more than content to sit and wait for circumstance to favor me,
I might say, “Hurry up, I’m dying,” but I say it patiently.
My confidence is never diminished by my incompetence,
I’m fully autonomous yet reliant on providence.
My ship is on its way, approaching at the speed of light,
Knowing that it’s coming means I know I don’t need it tonight.
Not saying I deserve it or I’ve earned it, just that I expect,
Eventually our separate trajectories will intersect.
That’s all I need to justify never not staying the course.
I don’t believe there’s such a thing as un-gross displays of force.
Maybe I should make an effort not to be a moving target,
Find a spot to park and start a-rolling out the scarlet carpet.
Chorus: When my ship comes in,
The featured presentation will begin.
And everyone who rolled their eyes at my opening act
Will be scrambling to be the first to roll them on back.
When my ship gets here,
The main course will finally appear.
And everyone who tussled over crusts of bread
Will wish they’d saved room for my hearty stew instead.
2. When it comes, it’ll come bearing me gifts.
I’ve got two humble speeches that I’ve been preparing in shifts:
One is mostly gratitude for God and my folks,
The other’s similar but with a couple alternate jokes.
I scan the skies with naked eyes, scan them with a telescope.
It’ll take more than numerous no-shows to dispel my hope.
It’s a “when,” not an “if,” maybe “where?” never “why?”
How could I lose sleep worrying that I’ll never fly
When my ship is gonna find me down here on ground level.
Not gonna say I long to soar just to sound special.
It’s better than an inheritance, better than winning lotteries.
It’s a validation of a widely-mocked philosophy.
I’m 33, I’ll wait until I’m 43, or 53, or 93.
Outlasting every clock-watcher timing me.
Or else my ship’ll come in tomorrow or even sooner or now
Or now, or now, or now, or….now!
Chorus: When my ship comes in,
The featured presentation will begin.
And everyone who rolled their eyes at my opening act
Will be scrambling to be the first to roll them on back.
When my ship gets here,
The main course will finally appear.
And everyone who tussled over crusts of bread
Will wish they’d saved room for my hearty stew instead.
Bridge: I don’t blame you try-hards for trying hard.
When you don’t know if you’ve got a ship on the way
Then I understand feeling like you can’t waste a day.
I don’t blame you try-hards for trying hard.
When you feel there’s a good chance no ship’s coming,
Then you’ve gotta break a sweat or you might end up with nothing.
3. Staying limber, when it lands I’ll be ready to unload.
You never fret about routes when there’s only one road.
Push-ups and haircuts: how I prepare for what the future holds:
Thriving on what my ship brought me until I’m super old.
It’s flying past comets, stars, habitable planets.
I’m the face that put a single life-altering ship in transit.
That’s all it’ll take for me to get my quota filled.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine more would only be overkill.
Tell me my approach is a symptom of my entitlement.
But all conquest is at least figuratively violent.
But I’m just hanging out, letting live and living,
Watching set jaws hustle by, forgetting and forgiving.
And when the smoke clears, there’s a cloud of dust,
And when the cloud of dust clears, I will cough and adjust
Not even one element of my master plan, I’ll skip
Every conditional break, waiting for my ship.
Chorus: When my ship comes in,
The featured presentation will begin.
And everyone who rolled their eyes at my opening act
Will be scrambling to be the first to roll them on back.
When my ship gets here,
The main course will finally appear.
And everyone who tussled over crusts of bread
Will wish they saved room for my hearty stew instead. (x2)
credits
from Matchforcer 2: Call of the Occupant,
released July 11, 2016
The Mispronouncer made the beat, wrote the lyrics, and performed the vocals.
Sharp commentary, big hooks, and stunning melodies make the Minneapolis rapper, poet, and songwriter's latest solo LP a triumph. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 8, 2023