Cookie / Where I’m From

I’m from the land when bears fall and break
I’m from the place where you can wash and clean
I’m from the gardens of flowers that you can sniff
I’m from the room of greenish things

I’m from the softness of lotions from my room
From the place where the ribs get cooked and the cookouts happen
I’m from the place where clothes are flying everywhere
From the place when trees take over

This is a funeral program
This is a message from Cookiе
This is a funeral program
This is a message from Cookiе
(repeats behind the next sections)

Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie

Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie

I’m from the days when airplanes fly around
I’m from the juice, chips and candy world
I’m from the night when Popeye's and McDonald's pop out
With the smells, the smells of thieves [?]

This is a funeral program
This is a message from Cookie
This is a funeral program
This is a message from Cookie
(repeats behind the next sections)

Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie
Laughing at Cookie

Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie
Poor little Cookie