| The smoke looks like chemtrails every time I exhale
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| Entrails trail when I’m impaled
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| There’s a red pale moon that I set sail to
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| Two sides when I lie on the bed nails
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| There’s bugs in the breadbox blades in my cereal
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| Trivial these days are arterial
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| Speak from the heart arterial
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| Art theory so ethereal star chart dreary
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| So hear me go so indigo in winter solstice
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| No Rigmarole just rigor mortis
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| Mix ‘em all with a warhead
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| Inner-torment intervals of misfortune
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| I’m in a different orbit
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| Bits of the pigeonhole I’m in is gorgeous
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| Never get into the fortress
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| Orchestras in my mind play a chorus
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| Paint a portrait emcee MC Escher
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| Go hand to hand then draw arms slow
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| Yea I got my lows I was high & dry
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| 'Til the water rose now I water roses (Watch ‘em grow)
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| Every god I’ve known is dead
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| I walk alone instead
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| Steady monochrome I’m sketching
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| Sketchy scenes with no regrets bet
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| My eyes dialate
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| I’m leaving soon no dying late
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| I’m wide awake
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| To greet the moon with tidal waves
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| I’m just molecules in motion
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| A product of explosions in the sky
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| Find the stardust I’m composed of
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| These waves
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| Fuck up the unknown
|
| These lines
|
| Fuck up the unknown
|
| Low
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| I’m just, I’m just molecules in motion
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| I’m just, I’m just going through the motions
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| I’m just gliding, I’m just, I’m just flying by
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| I’m just riding my, homemade, handmade instrument
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| To guide me through the eye, hope to come out dry
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| Other Side, I’m just, I’m just, I’m just trying to find the words
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| Trying to lose 'em in the curves
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| Trying to prove I’m not trying to prove shit
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| But that’s absurd (true)
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| Was I trying to cast a spell for love
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| But tries a stretch
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| Didn’t have the time for the witchy shit
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| Onto the next, never got a badge for patience, shit
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| Or really anything they ever make a badge about
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| But I never ever try to fit their vision
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| And that’s really the only kind of shit I try to brag about
|
| These waves
|
| Fuck up the unknown
|
| These lines
|
| Fuck up the unknown
|
| Low |