Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rogue Wave, artist - Aesop Rock. Date of issue: 30.01.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Rogue Wave |
| A little bread, a little circus |
| It serve as a diversion for devils and death merchants |
| I was curled up underneath the swirling threat of reds and purples |
| Lumberjack flannel, strapping saddles over servals |
| Paddling in circles with 10,000 maniacs in yankee caps |
| Who get to know the neighbors every time they tip the ladle back |
| Rag tag cats and canines who catch phat tags on the fabric of space time |
| All work no play, dull boys rotate |
| Old Boy, Ghostface, Tolstoy, Coltrane |
| Throws up coffin nails, off the rails |
| Born bathed in a tornado of claws and tails |
| Got skulls on his sails, cobras on the pleather |
| Salt and pepper soldiers barely holding it together |
| But supposedly awoke and down to mobilize whenever |
| You’re pretty much a Gomer Pyle to pester, remember |
| I’m Pop-O-Matic trouble, I will commander the goulash |
| Under hockey hair, zoom off on a blue ox through the blogosphere with poppies |
| for your mama bear |
| Carrots for the vitamix, kibble for the puppy, something bloody for the firebit |
| Never mind the appetizer writhing in the spider web |
| Stare into it long enough you biters just might find yourselves |
| Tea with the dark side, Slimer on speed dial |
| Sleep on a couch or a street or a leaf pile |
| Our kind can not be redeemed |
| I’m a cancer on the glamor, I can’t with the «Me Me Me» |
| No anesthesia, surgeon with the signal jammer scrambling the feed |
| Distributing the panacea free, all day |
| There is no amount of Our Fathers that could remedy the black dog breathing |
| down his collar |
| Mi casa like I’m Oscar, hot and popping out a flipped lid |
| Eyepatch, Prince wig, disappearing grid blip |
| Stiff lip, sure to shit talk a centurion, tsk tsk, I don’t really wiggle with |
| invertebrates |
| Purp in the thurible, off sides, toss thine merch in the urinal |
| It’s nothing personal |
| Dirtbag don, don’t provoke him to act up |
| I’m golden doing donuts in the Totoro cat bus |
| Everything I touch turn to black sludge |
| Bugs in the bag lunch, punch through a mack truck |
| Hunchback, get y’all acquainted with the contagion |
| Nobody safe, say hello to well beyond containment |
| I came for every cell between the belfry and the basement |
| You maybe wanna telephone your favorites |
| We take it where the warlocks lock horns, soda pop, popcorn |
| Top notch gore set to Bach over fog horns |
| Snotty nose, clogged pores, fork in his heart |
| Back away or catch a halo made of orbiting stars, yea |
| Transform in the dark, got a dog nose sniffing out the source of the snark |
| Got a cat’s ears twitching every snap of a twig |
| Triangulate your position, a simple rabbit to skin |
| I been an echo in the dark who demo applied science at the parlay |
| Barf rainbows and cry diamonds, ok |
| Ready Freddy, headlong into creeping death |
| Respawn where you least expect |
| I could pick a pin and tumbler right in front of the guard |
| Out the front with another Picasso under his arm |
| Hit the city limit still exhibiting his inner Caulfield, baby |
| I’m H.E. |
| double hockey sticks on wheels |
| New dawn, show 'em how the voodoo doll feels |
| Plus launch fireballs from the palm heels |
| On an otherwise slow day, this is how I row into the rogue wave, yo |