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| Aesop Rock-Drawbridge Feat. Dose One |
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These lyrics might be incorrect since this
song is so crazy. This song is from Aesop
Rock's album Float.
INTRO
This is not your ordinary ballad with a
perfect little bow around the middle and a
black knight on a white horse or a white
knight on a black horse. It's got all these
tired parts where we don't even sing and
random princess raise the drawbridge we don't
serve your kind. It ends where it begins and
the beginning isn't pretty, can't forget that
not-so-perfect bow around the middle and it
goes a little something like this.
A.R. - Moon walking a broken sould pedigree
incessant. Gut the cruddy frame. The zealouts
enveloped inside the belly of the blame.
Cutthroat's the result of pulp joke soaked in
poacher constants, and not a jewel amidst
coal wander prominent. Honor. I barter silk
worms by the bucket like starter kits. Sew
your first martyr stitch. Join damaged
mammoth brigader caper. Nurse the tantrum
with a fantasy chaser. I keep a spare wing
strapped to my fuses in case the hackers
snatch the plumage.
D.O. - So you mean these things are worth
money now drifting off this is the who you
calling homeless mighty fearful twisted and
tonight I got front row tickets to the dead
concert and your in it, Ichabod. Running out
of morals for my allegory...Moseying and my
kind of people will sell only circles... with
my eyes patched in a not so new universe so I
beckon and bray but my pretty bird just ain't
muting the many...
A.R. - Oh it'll be soon. Balloon immune to
doom blend. I ain't ditchin' the kitchen 'til
every spoon bends. A Glance among tomorrow's
sorry looking lot of hopefuls was the rain
dance my little flint never dreamed would
flutter potable. I sanitize nothing for the
sake of contemporary taste, contemporary
taste made my lip drop in the first place.
Incoming. You wanna be a czar? Idolize fallen
heroics, recognize root of the worship,
search and hold it. Who put the fun in
dysfunctional? I, prodigal son combustible.
Donkey punchin' pinholes in uncomfortable Zen
conjunctionals for good. The bear cubs slob a
goblet of dirt wine. I nurse a sincle
appreciation of introvert serpentine.
D.O. - A sunset with out a scrape of red and
plastic bag noise sunk down around his head
sick. Sick sick... Stealing a peak... There's
sickness in the roofer's eyes and his alone
and nothing terrible happened to the bag...
Wrongs spilled off in and brought out on the
clouds the hiss cut's out spills its voice
into me and the window full of star is fresh
kept from where I'm going or the other only
other way art.
A.R. - I got charcoals in my heart, I got
charcoals in my heart, I got charcoals by the
armfuls that burn my armor apart.
D.O. - And before when I said, "Shut the fuck
up, it's none of your business," that was to
be in vein... Be sure to lock that up when
you're all finished... Finished yet? Uhh...
Well, you see, I usually finish this number
with... my skull open.
A.R. - Everybody rally 'round the novel
burner, spit, murder the matches where the
junkies trade diseases and the gullible trade
passions. Now the masses wanna lean on me
like 'oh captain my captain, not considering
maybe this orphan hosts morbid attachments.
D.O. - "Button button, who's got the button?"
Take my name... please... leaks the little
gentle man made of lightning inside my
lockbox... Oh you like to help with coats...
Wait until you see what I got in this here
locket
OUTRO
A.R. - Everybody rally 'round the novel
burner, spit, murder the matches where the
junkies trade diseases and the gullible trade
passions. Now the masses wanna lean on me
like 'oh captain my captain, not considering
maybe this orphan hosts morbid attachments.
D.O. - "Button button, who's got the button?"
Take my name... please... leaks the little
gentle man made of lightning inside my
lockbox... Oh you like to help with coats...
Wait until you see what I got in this here
locket
OUTRO
Tags : Aesop Rock Dose One Drawbridge Float |
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Affichage : 4218
Durée : 285 s |
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