Lyrics Leisureforce - Aesop Rock

Leisureforce

Postcards from the pink bath paint leisure
As a cloaked horse through a stained-glass Saint Peter
Hack faith-healer, cheat death to the very end
Cherry wooden nickels on his specs for the ferrymen
X-O, Zodiac a pentagram expo
Pet Cemetery in electric fresco
Abaddon threshold, flash forged in a galley
With undead orcs pulling oars through the algae
Smash cut to a smoke-bombed quarantine
Guards like, «All signs correlate with sorcery»
It’s more a dormant cell of valor as awoken by the smell of sordid power
And defecting shortly after
Fist bump dry land, brackish
Cat nap 15, back to swiss-cheese the flagship, uh
Blue in the menacing grip of a day for which you’re manifestly unfit
Final answer «not to be», «not to be» is right!
Next question — to build winged shoes or autophagy
Silk-screen band tees, take apart a VCR
Ringer off, canned peas, cabin fever mi amor
Patently adhering to the chandelier at key-in-door
To usher in the understated anarchy of leisureforce
Led a purple tongue and ratty Caballeros
Up over the black rainbow into the house of mirrors
To become a thousand zeroes, echoing a twisted alchemy
Freak flags, fluttering to circadian free jazz
Sleep apnea, scratching, «bring that beat back»
I doze off, clothes on, nose in the feedbag
Shhh… Om nom, nom, blinds drawn
Compost thrown to the spine pile, bygones
Mangy, intimately spaced pylons
On a plot of inhospitable terrain, «Hi mom!»
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
No sleep, gold mine, front door circled
Proceed, low light, 24 curfews
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Crows beak, cold night, unmoored virtue
Proceed, snow-blind, 24 curfews
Raise up the bridge, lower the portcullis
Rain forks into mutton, no abort button
Core pump, assorted color sugar water
Poor lummox, unexplained ailments and doesn’t work well with others
Wet nose on the glass, Garibaldi half cookie dough
Lock jaw, Don 4 walls like a wooden coat
Behold the rotting fruit of excommunication:
A ruby tide insubordinate to lunar phases
That maneuver past the beaches to the bosom of the pavement
Now the bow drill smolder in a flooded bit of basement
Grace of a misled teen who prefers his scenes with a little Wilhelm scream
The ambush predator edition
Skill set of Will Tell aim and speed over short distance
Part hatter-mad, part erratic habitat
Dark matter harnessing his heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
No sleep, gold mine, front door circled
Proceed, low light, 24 curfews
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Midsummer, bit crusher, midwinter, bit shifter
Crows beak, cold night, unmoored virtue
Proceed, snow-blind, 24 curfews