| Somebody in a cultivated moment of distress
|
| Composed themselves enough to artfully carve «Zoso» in his desk
|
| They was probably thinking «fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!» |
| in they head
|
| With a hell bound arm in a acidy wash
|
| Homemade curfew a thousand o’clock
|
| And the pot leaf tattoo his friend did drunk
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| Like a badge of mystique though it technically sucked
|
| Taking the name of the father in vain
|
| On the way to the blade in his locker
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| Estranged
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| A switch he lifted from a sibling’s skivvy drawer
|
| Who’d branched off into ninja stars
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| And never knew his shit was sharked to
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| Here with a higher purpose
|
| And a prime alert to juvenile berserkers
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| Like Crocea Mors in a arcade drop claw
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| Gouging a valentine for Miss Othmar
|
| Watch
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| Capital Zed, slowly maneuver the O
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| S is the most difficult to control
|
| Finally O
|
| Into the eye of Goliath you go
|
| That levy crushin' percussion’ll pull the monkey upright
|
| Twelve or ghetto blaster
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| Black or technicolor telecaster
|
| Lecture at a faster rate than class was making them develop backwards
|
| It would appear you spelled out all the answers
|
| When they ask how you, feeling you, tell em you, feeling like
|
| Something important died screaming, you, tell em you, feeling like
|
| Something even more important arrived breathing, something you should probably
|
| try feeding
|
| When they ask how you, living you, tell em you, living like
|
| Something important died hissing, you, tell em you, living like
|
| Something even more important arrived giving
|
| Something you should probably try willing
|
| (alright, same here)
|
| Somebody in a cultivated moment of distrust
|
| Composed themselves enough to magic-marker «Zulu» on these chucks
|
| They was tryin to do the buckle font from ‘Renegades of Funk‘
|
| In a 3d frame of exploding brick
|
| And whiz-lines for the locally motion sick
|
| Beyond gross but evoked a host of «oh dip»
|
| Where a social neurosis owned the whole strip
|
| Heart of a cat with a lark in his mouth
|
| In the marrow of waiting his guardians out
|
| Flashlight
|
| Chisel tips
|
| Milked venom
|
| Pistol grip
|
| Images relocated from milled vellum to scissor kick
|
| Silent agreement at hand
|
| King of the hill for a queen of the damned
|
| She in the doorway seething began
|
| «That clean white pair had a 3-year plan»
|
| Oops
|
| Capital «ZED» Radical «U» in the cut
|
| Truly to beautiful «L"oser it up «U» and he done
|
| Collateral damage a future alum that key to Shambala
|
| Planet rocking Bambaata
|
| Sample chop
|
| Churning out a cancer for the vandal squad
|
| Analog
|
| And he finds
|
| Animated colors on a page
|
| Like synthesized cultures on a stage
|
| When they ask how you, feeling you, tell em you, feeling like
|
| Something important died screaming, you, tell em you, feeling like
|
| Something even more important arrived breathing, something you should probably
|
| try feeding
|
| When they as how you, living you, tell em you, living like
|
| Something important died hissing, you, tell em you, living like
|
| Something even more important arrived giving
|
| Something you should probably try willing
|
| (alright, same here)
|
| Somebody in a cultivated moment of resolve
|
| Composed themselves enough to publicize «the Zeros» in this stall
|
| They was scoping every dog and pony previously scrawled
|
| With a festering hate for the gum drop edge
|
| ‘Disco sucks' tee, punk‘s not dead
|
| But a transient teen unsung godsend
|
| Via 3 bar chords and a mugshot grin
|
| (Cheese!)
|
| Sign of a runaway tone in the face of authority, thumbing it’s nose
|
| Cutting it’s teeth
|
| Pretzled up in special order vinyl, and
|
| Birds that dip their belts in little metal porcupine quills
|
| 2 dutch at a show in the front, low-key to the can
|
| For a smoke and a fuck, Trixie, fixing her lipstick up
|
| When his mitts got bit by the mischief bug
|
| Snatch
|
| Capital «zed», terrible «e» in vermillion red
|
| Gimme an «R», «O» and a slippery «s»
|
| Over a web of the shittiest bands
|
| That beat your heart out
|
| Never bleeped your favorite parts out from a learned curve
|
| Of bird fingers bursting out of germs burns
|
| Urgently
|
| Offered through the circuits of an earlier plot
|
| I’ll see you at the bottom ZZZ top |