in western washington, born and raised.
on an island is where i spend most of my days
chilling out, maxing, recycling 'cuz it's cool
and all throwin' ultimate frisbee outside of the school
when a couple conservatives up to no good
started making trouble in the neighborhood
they won one little election and my mom got scared
she said, "you're moving with your auntie and uncle to Sinclair"
i thumbed for a Prius and when it came near the
license plate said 'hemp' and had a prayer flag in the mirror
if anything i could say that this car was a sound environmental choice
i thought "nah, forget it. yo hippies to Sinclair!"
i pulled up to a commune about seven or eight
and i yelled to the lefties "Yo, dudes smell you later!"
looked at my yurt, i was finally there
to sit on my yoga mat as a person of Sinclair