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Текст песни Aesop Rock - Cycles to Gehenna слова

16 августа 2012 г. Просмотров: 1447 RSS
A » Aesop Rock

Baseheads locally approach all spark plugs

Total disregard for a dying man's shark jump

Post-meridiem pretty tungsten attracts any once—pale horse painted gunmetal black

Face masking, hard-shelled ebony propeller hat

Clubmans, gloved rakes grappling the clutch span

Tuck go the steel toe, metal gate spreading

For the dead-alive that rented parking space 37

2000 out the weekly under "Cycles to Gehenna" gets him floating over 20 busses

Fireproof and festive

Corners like a two-tired tiger so a too-tired rider can accumulate a few excited fibers to assign

Knows no zen in the art of maintenance

Only as the orchestrated patron saint of changing lanes baby

Here is how a great escape goes when you can't take your dead friends names out your phone


Eyes and teeth, new moon on a scale that defies belief

Outside what our fundamental sciences teach, every other mighty lion asleep

Gangway - mine eyes, mine teeth


The man-ape translates glam thru the visor

Goes in water lillies

Am-scrays Giger, and man—ray

Crammed in a one-player campaign

Blinker like a hallowed bonfire over Samhain

Span where the praying hands mandate

Bars an extension of the arms

They're mutating instead of being farmed

Tonight beneath a marmalade venus

Haunted mowers chewing every glowing yard of mud between us

Going Ford, Jag, Datsun, Corvette, Lotus

All cones you can slalom when your focused

Via mechanical Dartmoor Frankensteined poorly

And sanctioned by a New Yank Yorkee

Who knew that any moment he could lose it to the decopaged suicide flooring

And still he keep his fuel tank portly, the 30 odd year old gears thank charlie

The scarfthank Mom's new hobby, kssssht! copy


Eyes and teeth, new moon on a scale that defies belief

Outside what our fundamental sciences teach, every other mighty lion asleep

Gangway - mine eyes, mine teeth


It was less an act of hubris

More a lonely hearts club at the helm ofa magic bullet

Away on a relentless bid for rarefied inertia

Rattletrap forks married to the patchy terra firma Ursa Minor getting warmer

I crowbar into the pecking order

The dreck between the whores and Betty Ford-ers

Hug a double yellow spine

Knobby rubber like a rat on a rope

Those little fuckers run on passion alone

This is the product ofa d.i.y. inadequate home

Grabbing a cabin in the-fuck-outta-dodge

Actin' a savage in the shadows of Rome

Amassed against insufferable odds

Fashioning gallows out of plastic and bone

I got the motordrome walls of death splintering under me

All-city galvanized bikes white knuckling

Bright light, tunnel kings tuck in the devil

PS - I wrote this on a self-destructing memo...


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