Rope Burn Saturday Morning Soundtrack (Ft. Eyedea)

I will never let go of the end of the rope
I got a mile's worth of adrenaline ready to float
It’s no surprise that you're trying to rely on your hold
I'm gonna climb ’til I die, man, leave me alone

[Ice on bub?]
[With a lawn sized shrug?]
So infectious, you'd have to be a rock not to fall in love

Button to a bubble of dependencies
Boiling blood, so I can feel the flood
Not aiming to be famous
I'd rather walk aimless
You can call me content, but just another brain whisked away
From convention to crucifixion
It's engraved
I'm a little made for TV

Missionary, hairy chest, doesn't equal mammal
Is this the rite of passage, control channels
From the couch all the way down to corporate headquarters, borders
Crossed contracts, breached quarters

Reached the wrong play to mister bossman is late
But I'm not concerned with these primitive men
And I'd rather spend my time earning a good death and learning you the true value of a dollar is nothing more than burning it