Lyrics Carl Solomon Blues - Dear and the Headlights

Carl Solomon Blues

«Backwash districts sprung from Ra’s bright hips
Reduced to silkscreen hand job new car ego trips
And it’s just endless combinations of the same old shit
Sloshing back and forth across some continents»
All that talking it ain’t got no use when it’s just mal-digestion that’s been
haunting you
Along with reflux opinions from your ulcer moods
You’re just a litany of horrors like the evening news but
Off somewhere in a New York flat, benzedrine derailed rants of immeasurable
frenetic praise
That cauterize before they save
All the truth now in how you’re lying there
Shoulder bladed nightmare, rug pulled from your feet
All the truth now in how you’re lying there in
Angel-headed elsewhere, so markedly meek
Slapped like a has-been by syntactic gods
Whom which the help you find your glasses but not your lower jaw
And you don’t want to look surprised but you’re in constant awe
Ain’t no fig leaf big enough to hide your diction flaws now
Teeming pools of alphabetic shame that spit out
Infinitely indolent verbs across your page
Who dig their cloddish claws instantly into some nouns legs
If once your manuscript just limped, now it’s become quite lame, but
Off somewhere in New York flat, they don’t deal with things like that, just
Immeasurable frenetic praise that cauterizes as it saves
All the truth now in how you’re lying there
Shoulder bladed nightmare, rug pulled from your feet
All the truth now in how you’re lying there in
Angel-headed elsewhere, so markedly meek
All the truth now in how you’re lying there
Shoulder bladed nightmare, rug pulled from your feet
All the truth now in how you’re lying there in
Angel-headed elsewhere for the past six weeks