[Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
I am not doomed (not doomed)
I burn bridges, not spoons (not spoons)
But I only burn the bridges, hitchin' life in locked rooms
Passive obstacle assessment:
Bound to blossom festive knock on wood
Salute the little lonely troglodyte that could
So they navigate the blame game with a bulls-eye on a gold link wrapped around shrink-wrapped persona
Honor in a makeshift crooked thug version of sacred
Not to be mistaken with the purity with which my angel masons storm the basement
Rope ladder descends from mothership, c-sectioned, monstrous
While a billion babies build forts out refrigerator boxes
Burrow, for the too far gone platoon craft billy clubs out fallen apple tree trunks
After apple seeds sunk well beneath them
My style sits softly in a synapse between fairytale and logic
Primarily Agnostic
Idle while the tidal title deem heat waves worthy of swallowing your journey
Wallowing across the nursery
I arrive tardy. I've offended every last pedestrian
Upon my way over to bless that bar seat
There's no excuse, I know, I'm sorry, but I'm here
[Slug] Which is more than I can say for my love of these puppeteers
[Aesop Rock] Well they tug 'em all in perfect syncopation, make they mommas proud
Certified absurd prince of flattery
Product of a drunken, rhythm-driven faculty
Check a mortal mayhem discotheque, boogie with a bounced check and a cigarette
I am not doomed (not doomed)
I burn bridges, not spoons (not spoons)
But I only burn the bridges, hitchin' life in locked rooms
Passive obstacle assessment:
Bound to blossom festive knock on wood
Salute the little lonely troglodyte that could
So they navigate the blame game with a bulls-eye on a gold link wrapped around shrink-wrapped persona
Honor in a makeshift crooked thug version of sacred
Not to be mistaken with the purity with which my angel masons storm the basement
Rope ladder descends from mothership, c-sectioned, monstrous
While a billion babies build forts out refrigerator boxes
Burrow, for the too far gone platoon craft billy clubs out fallen apple tree trunks
After apple seeds sunk well beneath them
My style sits softly in a synapse between fairytale and logic
Primarily Agnostic
Idle while the tidal title deem heat waves worthy of swallowing your journey
Wallowing across the nursery
I arrive tardy. I've offended every last pedestrian
Upon my way over to bless that bar seat
There's no excuse, I know, I'm sorry, but I'm here
[Slug] Which is more than I can say for my love of these puppeteers
[Aesop Rock] Well they tug 'em all in perfect syncopation, make they mommas proud
Certified absurd prince of flattery
Product of a drunken, rhythm-driven faculty
Check a mortal mayhem discotheque, boogie with a bounced check and a cigarette
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!