Lyrics Bats - The Uncluded

Bats

My feet hang off of every bed I ever slept on
Catch less Z’s more f-bombs (Fuck)
Invaders from the north brought a body in the trunk
With four coal eyes ushering a Jonestown flood
Two known, two dumbstruck
Plain clothes sputter in
A strange home spine-chilling cluster to unfuck
Sup sup Austin, I know little magic
No checked bags show up with the most baggage
Fresh hell dragging old hell up from holed rabbits
Who mangle emotion in gross patterns
No carrots, only rumors of a bridge that flickered with black scallops
And float pine out the bathtub of crass maggots
(Bats)
1 point fuckin' 5 schmillion
A number undermining how they duck and dive different
And I was waiting for an hour and I merely saw six
Some thought it was a bust, I thought it was the shit
I watched the videos and hung out with his friends and hugged his mama
And it’s clear to me this kid’s the Minnesota Dalai Lama
And the llama twist his tongue
To create a perfect rhyme
Whether freestyled or preconceived to spit that shit out at your mind
And your mind’s rind peels back revealing
Every dead friend on the back of a little black bat
So you stand and you wait at the top of the bridge
Only six fly out and return to where they hid
So you wait and you wait and you never wanna leave
‘Cause 1.5 million bats is what you need to see to grieve
1.5 million bats is what you think you need
But 6 is enough to receive a little peace
‘Cause every little bit counts
In times of death and disorder
You look for shooting stars
In the reflection of the water
And you open the gifts that you didn’t expect
On the birthdays of the dead friends that are stuck in your head
Like love, and hugs and songs and rage
And the keys that you needed to unlock your heart’s cage
The ability to put the pen back to the page
The heat beneath your feet to propel you on stage
The beat that completes your shit these days
Yeah the beat that completes your shit these days
Yeah the beat that completes your shit these days
BATS
BATS
The post cards coast from a recurring force field
Pickling his demons with the prematurely door-nailed
Never play Taps on a short-scale
Played dream wars with coffins and chalkboard nails
Sore thumb
All played the corner of the salt lick
K’ll say, «The people you are meeting know what loss is»
Twenty in, I’m on the patio with forceps
Wig split, sorting what amount to little war heads
Yadda yadda stop
Tell me about your homie
The quote that would open a can of bogeys
In the form of stolen roman candle stories
Wild youth clipped
From a tether plus my alive friends are even deader
Is a little folk singer who has run out of chords
Like a big bad lion who has lost its roar?
Coming in like a lambchop
Out like a lyin' shame
I got Gunther Gabel- Williams
Tryna tame my brain
With a flick of the wrist and a crack of the whip
I said, «If that’s all you got
You ain’t got shit»
‘Cause for free birds like me
The possibilities are endless
Try to put me in a box
I will be relentless
In my pursuit of lots of different kinds of things
You can clip my toe nails but
You can’t clip my wings
BATS
BATS
I know about your brother
I will bring him to the bridge
If the colony is hiding, we will lift him on the six
Knife in the road
Scalp in his mitten
Glass house, decal of Calvin pissin---
A proud Fugee of the foul cow tip cow system
Triple crown clip, never trickle down bread crumbs
Goofus over Gallant
Mill about head shrunk
Thread a symphony of krill and killer clown redrum-wretch
If you ever woke up feeling future-proof
Precious brothers in effect and rooting for the future you
Speaking of the future us
Twin City morning
Broke a wiper on a rental tryna grin away the gory
Wait, new game: smuggle bats on a plane
Wait — newer game: tie the whole bridge to his frame
I will drag these bricks
Over lake and law
Shake 1.5 out over St. Paul
Just knowing poetry and mathematics get involved
Any total ain’t a quota more a draw
Don’t count shit
First sign of leathery wings
You throw them devil horns up yelling heavenly things
See I started this life
As a nappy buckwheat flapjack
Flipping on the shiny white backs of the backpack
A princess, a jock, a brain, a freak
Now I’m a fucking rebel I’m a little of each
And I’m not ashamed of all the different parts of me
And I like cross-pollinating the communities
Because divided we’re cool
But together we conquer
Like monsters and grouches
And humans and honkers
And if you’re close to my age, then you were raised on the street
With a Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip in front of your TV
And our generation’s gotta do it differently
‘Cause we got new ideas and new abilities
Is that an old-fashioned funeral?
ew — change the station
I’d rather tune in for a life celebration
Say good bye with dance parties and say good bye with shows
‘Cause that somber-ass shit’s not the way I wanna go
Put your hands in the air
Feel your dead friend’s presence
Wrap and unwrap pack no resentments
With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge
And we’re summoning the bats so we can live
With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge
And we’re summoning the bats so we can live