Lyrics Splitting Hairs - Clarence Clarity, Pizza Boy

Splitting Hairs

The torso of my toy wrestler is too loose
And you’re trying to feed me kind words through poop chute
Quit it, I can smell the waste
It elevates into the air, I swear, it’s up there
Doing a jig upside down on a glass ceiling
And on the other side, there is Billy Mays
Kneeling down giving it a streak-free shine
But when I show him the footprints he ignores me each time
I catch sight of myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
I catch sucking myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
I get it, it’s not your problem, you’ve transcended
We’re swimmin' in outrage and gluten-free chicken
Gawker articles, copious photographs of kittens and… «Listen to my mixtape!»
That was a request, not commentary
The similarity of our struggle is kinda scary
Iapapa berries are my art;
some life for nerds, but turds to those confused by
tart remarks
I catch sight of myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
I catch sucking myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
I’m at my weakest, reading Rap Genius
Trying to make sense of myself, dispensing my health
To these beings i’m not even sure that i’m seeing, peeing on the side of the
bowl
My roommate is sleeping next to the girl who is sleeping with him,
because her guy does art and only makes about 8.99
Christ, me and that guy would be best pals, but I should keep it down,
their having sex now
I catch sight of myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
I catch sight of myself sliced in seven angles
I’m quantised and baptised but understand that
Maybe one day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»
Splitting hairs
Splitting hairs
One day in a couple of years
God be like;
«Fuck it, I’ve been splitting hairs»