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Текст песни Aesop Rock - Coma 12"

Aesop Rock - Coma 12" слова песни

[Aesop Rock]Count that for me...thanks[Robotic voice] 4xOne, two, one, two, three, four[Aesop Rock]Well any asshole with a book of matches can light a fire freshMake that sucker burn for days, I`ll be impressedCirclin past the culture`s bigot, procreation baked in advanceableThen ball and scurry up the grass to roll his marbles off the anthillI know gerth and nature but recognize absentee ballotAnd sappy ballads couldn`t fill the voidThis game`s in the giant Tugboat Complex and HE`S ANNOYED!(No one`s asking you to feel the narc, brother!)Hmm, it`s fashionI`ll find my own bullies to shake a finger wrapped inRealigned mine knives in divine justicePlus this uncontrollable laugh with those ample waves of brain finally crashBrimstone clone with legs and dim poemsTen little Zen craftsThings cooperate like paper dog participants litigansPicket well or ride or burner style clinicAcid with the basicsP-H imbalance to burn the malice martyrs spacelessThen fabricate daytripsI want to be the halo that jumps off the brainOf the genius who decided some pictures deserved frames(God and I are on a first name basis)Yeah I call him God, he calls me JesusWhen I lost my religion, he fell to piecesBlade, dragon, up hell`s creekInterrupting a devil pagentStarfighter settling to madnessI keep my ghoul spirit concealedUntil the warriors return to the Coney Isle Wonder Wheel[Chorus] 4xMy momma told me there`d be days like thisDays like this, days like this, days like this (yes she did)[Robotic voice] 4xOne, two, one, two, three, four[Aesop Rock]Okay, tell me who you chill with and I`ll tell you who you areI walk a mile with a leash attached to your freak seminarIt`s a modern sensation on the boulevard of maintenanceTo sweep your broken hopes under the rugs then hug the playpenThis revolution pushing through the loose pins and a strait jacketA maverick classed in a bunk categoryThey had him parallel with a tattered glory division(I could devil drink dreams out of thermos)Yeah, with a whiskey afterburnIt`s like, nine o`clock wake (I`m up) spit obscentitiesMy girl ties on my cape, smoke a bone then work my dental treeThe clear day`s laced with a classic mother nature thunderchaser setThat got my papergrain`s wings wetVoyeurist amendments lack expansive coverage in the syllabusI dance with shuckles while you man the keyhole grilling codeI`ve done my chores according to God`s scheduleWith coffee holding the wheel and nicotine working the pedalsMetal edge kings that tends to rapel the pebbleKettle screaching out the operettaI live to autograph the iron curtain with doveback feather pensSpurting magma, cursing television urns to burn until my CleopatraMinor (Major) dispersed slap on the wristFor the tennants lacking the arms to harbor the rarity of thick friendshipStuck with a "Yes sir"Change of fatigue to ankleEach beneath the angleI`ma call home until the rock meets the angelsChorus 4x[Robotic voice] *repeat to fade*One, two, one, two, three, four

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