Oh my God They've got angels sweatin' like Helots workin' their little halos 'til the bones combing them deserts my figure eight knotted lifeline defined traffic the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day one exquisite fit of crisis rivets and octagon of red to the ceiling above my bed it's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles leashed more of a clue so when I wake up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you I slide like coat-of-chrome, wrote a poem for every planet typed their mileage from the sun in an envelope licked it, stamped it got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left only the earth would thank me later with a breathtaking sunset (man, I'm just a bum) zip that waterfall around your skeleton tell it to boil loyalty's the shovel in the soil dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter nursed the blister in the sun strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood might a worm sip a little, litter it, love it without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket might a tugboat float a box-cut above those ashes without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets and I'm asking you to let a captive's lacerated caption splash out massive opposed to plastic classes with famine patches i-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth and for a second taste the pain while removing that crown of thorns allotrophic(?) motley clique marcato(?), born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle massacres stamp the blame on following an inkling my fire escape overlooks ghost town market place Martyrs barter passions then fasten self to the target base you're killin' me
if I had a hammer, I'd build a city on stilts so my feet would stay dry when God's wine glass tilts
if I had a shovel, I'd dig a hole in the dirt and I'll be hiding when his drunken stupor lands upon earth
and if your little wing is broken I'll see the poacher in hell I can't afford another anti-burden soldier to sail my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand leaky spigots and a colony of crazers raised to justify the grimace (and yes I read the treatment) I prescribe brevity, plus the premise is my pincushion, my limbs pushin' the knitting needle's evils, idle, peddle past the breeding where the sleepers feed the cycles stop watch the egos bore the little engine that could not ghost in a shell and it fell in my lap Passion posted the bail but the guard had misplaced the key ring (that's wonderful) I lead a fleet of blazing Zaxxons directly into the village power supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye now how many cadavers satisfy a mad man? and how many crooked Samaritans turn plesantville to bad land? I could count my own dusty nickels with you laughing about you'll turn my poor ass ebony to navy with cane lashings (well, you're right) grip your pointed stick, incite your riot I'll sell your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias atomic boxcar downward spiral rapidly Plaster hell with hate mail, forge Christ's autograph, laugh at self-crafted catastrophe biting my lip skin and bones, stringent bingin' on rancid baits mummified well inside a muddy New York minute was it your remnants my smoke rings had cocooned prior to fading? well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have been that
I am not your friend anymore my arrow head deads rotation(?) when narrow bed sleepers occupy the basement and I am not your friend anymore come the dawning of cerulean your pity blend'll be spit in the wind
man, if it were only that simple I'd add a guilt-framed eye-core I board myself inside my room to trace the wilting contour one petal falls to the rug, she loves me not town crier lugging a boom box with spirit plugs and a red radio flyer tied to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot fiddler crabs build sandcastles while high tide offers failure crops in the icicle field I portray, cats get antsy and ask 'why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?'
why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
why if every light is dark do I continue dancing? well if it ain't finally a question that's worth answering
I boogie for the raindrops for the purity, the anger for my childhood recollections for the comic book in my heart the mocked intentions the clarity, passion, seclusion those cool summer nights for the market merchant across the street selling me stoges at half price for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating pitfall my girl, my friends for the fact my window opens towards a brick wall for the three legged dog I saw dragged on a leash for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic bags on his feet see I throw the weight of ten Earth's over one shoulder and walk across broken glass through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning not for nothing you'll drown in a pool of your crooked morals whispering maybe Aesop Rock was on to somethin'
maybe, no promisesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
