1. |
Uzumaki
03:07
|
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2. |
Electric Eel
03:36
|
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|
Yielding, grief grew legs and carried me cross the plains straight through to acceptance
Yielding, grief grew legs and carried me through, through
I sleep somewhere on the surface on the surface of the acetylene moon
Collecting dust in my arsenic lungs
In an explosion of song and dance, my soul leaps out of my body
The same red serpent’s fangs spit when I doublespeak
doublespeak
My lust for life greyed into a celibance right in front of my eyes
Could it be the drugs kicking in?
Cause I am feeling the urge to straighten up and fly right
Could it be the drugs kicking in?
Cause I am feeling the urge to straighten up and fly right
My feverish eyes are having a hard time looking in one direction
in one direction
One direction, in one direction
Drag my head from cloud to crowd
Along the migratory pattern from toil to rest
Drag my head from cloud to crowd
Along the migratory pattern from toil to rest
Yielding, grief grew legs and carried me cross the plains straight through to acceptance
Yielding, grief grew legs and grave weight over great distance
Could it be the drugs kicking in?
Cause my feverish eyes are having a hard time looking in one direction
In one direction
one direction
|
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3. |
Boom & Bust
03:33
|
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|
Our fathers, they lack a next of kin
Our fathers, they are of clearer skin
me alive or not at all
We are rolling through boom and bust cycles bust and boom a through rolling are
Do you kiss your mother with those lips?
or do they part solely to puff and hiss
There’s a tomb at the tip of your tongue that channels air from your old black lung
Cataracts, they’ll crawl like spiders
Your days in the sun are numbered, my friend
Your days in the sun are numbered, my friend
We were out burning villages before we discovered the flame
Before we discovered the flame
Social crosshairs poise us to stand in line and take aim
The same most dreadful beast will wake up to a different face each day
To plead with the world, yelling “I’m tamed!”
at least, the last I checked
I stole the ammunition but surrendered my arms, my good faith, and the rest of my limbs
At the security checkpoint across the road
Like a coven of saints reciting the dead man’s ode
“Go!
Glove, point!
And having pointed, pounce! pounce! pounce!”
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