Lyrics Motion Lines - Busdriver

Motion Lines

Stand, pause, turn, turn
Stand, pause, turn, turn
Stand, pause, turn, turn
Stand, pause, turn, turn
I’m gone
After you said what you did
There ain’t no way I’m coming back
Spill the wine
Return the gifts
I’m out of here
(Let me explain)
(Let me explain)
I don’t want to ruin your ball-gown
Because I’m not feeling law-bound
You can probably coffee-grind by body-mind into a psychotropic compound
An ice age will thaw before I’m able to play ball
Your cryptic texts aren’t state law
Yet read like an algebraic scroll
But I know you’re gone
After that gut wrenching shout match
And my out of whack palm read, got me on leave
In this outback with some lounge act
But don’t crossbreed with my ennui it’s a mousetrap
For the besmirched and weakened
I’m like a jerkhead telling you to twerk for the church of England
My advice stay so socratic, don’t panic if I’m looking like a dope addict
Because I’m depressed as shit
Knowing that my capricious lover is a migrant bird
Your absence caused quiet stirs
That progressed into a violent dirge
Of victim blaming and miscellaneous quips to prove that my discourse’s boyish
I had my heart explained to me
I was drawn to quarters by hoarse voices
But you forgot to listen to me when I said
I’m impossible to love and cannot keep an open mind
So you left me where I was
Shredded in your motion lines
We never touched on it, touched on it
What we left
To be in love and treated love like a brush with death
We never touched on it
This shit is depressing, man.
Get over it
Slice at the knuckle where the mind bends
And I become a motherfucker fucker times ten
Crisis all look enormous when your body suffers a sugar shortage
I’ll cook a swordfish or prep any gourmet platter to stimulate your gray matter
Girl, this rap shit left me worse for wear
And I ain’t got that perfect hair, my love feels like a cervix tear
But you kissed me by my desk light
Cause you’re looking like my next wife
Cause you’re looking like my next wife
Cause you’re looking like my next wife
I’m here burning midnight oil
Soaking gravitas into cotton swabs
In return I get tight coils of human waste as toothpaste
Oh I get it, I’m old news, a motherfucking brontosaurus
And to think that I invited you to my underwater forest
A thousand fuck-you's sprung-loaded in a balled up fist
I open my palms and my eyelids become two devolved pussy lips
And I deserve it