| Flipped on my perceptive cogs
|
| Checked in with the future gods
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| For melodies of bees and hogs
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| Start my day the perfect way
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| Burned a batch of mazzy funk
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| Poor girl noise and choke style punk
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| Clapped it on and off I slunk
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| To the streamXsonik subway
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| First I need my iris scanned
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| As I smell the breeze of electric tin
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| With purple lights I’m motioned in
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| Wink the gain to minus 10
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| Fell asleep and missed my stop
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| Got rousted by a low-beam cop
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| Got a ticket-patch for elicit flop
|
| Then froze me with his Jesus gun
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| That don’t mean I’m shot down yet
|
| The glow below of the whisper jet
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| It all means so much to us
|
| We dream below the rainbow’s rust
|
| Clippen on my streetmatik clogs
|
| Pushed through the hyped-out fervent fogs
|
| Found my way with sensoid jogs
|
| New radio structure
|
| State my name and locus frame
|
| Paid the price for crashing fame
|
| The apprentice sparks his initial flame
|
| The printout says «further»
|
| Antique minds with rivered hair
|
| StreamXsonik subway fare
|
| Stay in touch with electric dear
|
| Our lightmap eyes together |