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Текст песни Aesop Rock - Saturn Missiles слова

16 августа 2012 г. Просмотров: 1059 RSS
A » Aesop Rock

If you step on the lawn I keep the foot, peep

In the pot go six degrees of cooked geese;

Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas

Over ten meathooks with a blister each

I'm all pincher, fevery hoodie-on hoodie-off

Sweat through his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls

Never met a quiet storm

That didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns

That go click click clack in territorial syntax

Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back

Pinball whiz in a thimble of sims

I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged

Kiss me, I'm dead; nursing a mystery Dayquil

Led Zep staring daggers down page mill

How pray tell do he sit pretty

When the old one-two unglue in a tizzy


Please hold for the don't-play dull boy

Click, I am not a page or a pull toy

Came in the door and the floor is lava

Killjoy if your core more Norman Rockwell

Born homesick for an invisible address, batshit

Bumble and bat around catnip

One black heart katamari massive

Packed in a fat category 5 rat nest

Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace

Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy

I hate you (I hate you more)

No I hate you infinity

And Pangaea break into smithereens

Interlude presto change-o

If it move too quick oh-whey-oh

Right brain go right train Ramo

Moustache any old Monet, (no)

Yes


Merrily merrily merrily merrily

In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy

Frogmen schooled by the god Ed Emberley

Pull dog sleds and exhume dead Kennedys

Bet, moth into kerosene awful

A caution to strawmen lost on vaudeville

Amorally mixing business

With a hundred and forty-four Dixie whistlers

Lawnchair strongman twisted whiskers

NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers

Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ring-ers

Are you privy to the misadventures


It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street

With a lethally modified piccolo pete

There is admittedly an incredible mystique

To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep

48 strings of twelve

That ring ring ring whiz-bang jingle bells

And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy

Classic fire-in-the-hole backdrafting

Fold wildlife out of wolf pack wrapping

Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine

TNT plunger in all-caps ACME

Blast off half of the whole damn mapscreen

No sling no spear

I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears

Who been stung by an unlinked pinky swear

During his what-in-the-fuck-was-I-thinking years

Maybe an awkward phase

Like his acne and sophomore fade, played

Calling all out-of-work action figures

It was death by saturn missiles


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