Aesop Rock The Tugboat Complex Lyrics

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Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' like Helots
workin' their little halos 'til the bones combing them deserts
my figure eight knotted
lifeline defined traffic
the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day
one exquisite fit of crisis rivets and octagon of red
to the ceiling above my bed
it's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles
leashed more of a clue
so when I wake up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
I slide like kodachrome,
wrote a poem for every planet
tracked their mileage from the sun in an envelope
licked it, stamped it
got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
only the earth would thank me later with a breathtaking sunset
(man, I'm just a bum)
zip that waterfall around your skeleton
tell it to boil
loyalty's the shovel in the soil
dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter
nursed the blister in the sun
strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood
might a worm
sip a little, litter it, love it
without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
might a tugboat float a box-cut above those ashes
without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets
and I'm asking you
to let a captive's lacerated caption
splash out massive
opposed to plastic classes with famine patches
i-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth
and for a second taste the pain while removing that crown of thorns
allotrophic(?) motley clique marcato(?), born hostile,
pacifist huddled in subtle massacres
stamp the blame on following an inkling
my fire escape overlooks ghost town market place
Martyrs barter passions
then fasten self to the target base
you're killin' me

if I had a hammer, I'd build a city on stilts
so my feet would stay dry when God's wine glass tilts

if I had a shovel, I'd dig a hole in the dirt
and I'll be hiding when his drunken stupor lands upon earth

and if your little wing is broken
I'll see the poacher in hell
I can't afford another anti-burden soldier to sail
my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand leaky spigots
and a colony of crazers raised to justify the grimace
(and yes I read the treatment)
I prescribe brevity, plus the premise is
my pincushion, my limbs pushin' the knitting needle's
evils, idle, peddle past the breeding
where the sleepers feed the cycles stop
watch the egos bore the little engine that could not
ghost in a shell and it fell in my lap
Passion posted the bail but the guard had misplaced the key ring (that's
I lead a fleet of blazing Zaxxons directly into the village
power supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye
now how many cadavers satisfy a mad man?
and how many crooked Samaritans turn plesantville to bad land?
I could count my own dusty nickels with you laughing
about you'll turn my poor ass ebony to navy with cane lashings
(well, you're right)
grip your pointed stick, incite your riot
I'll sell your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias
atomic boxcar downward spiral rapidly
Plaster hell with hate mail, forge Christ's autograph,
laugh at self-crafted catastrophe
biting my lip
skin and bones, stringent
bingin' on rancid baits
mummified well inside a muddy New York minute
was it
your remnants my smoke rings had cocooned prior to fading?
well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have been that

I am not your friend anymore
my arrow head deads rotation(?)
when narrow bed sleepers occupy the basement
and I am not your friend anymore
come the dawning of cerulean your pity blend'll be spit in the wind

man, if it were only that simple
I'd add a guilt-framed eye-core
I board myself inside my room to trace the wilting contour
one petal falls to the rug, she loves me not
town crier lugging a boom box with spirit plugs
and a red radio flyer
tied to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot
fiddler crabs build sandcastles while high tide offers failure crops
in the icicle field I portray, cats get antsy
and ask 'why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?'

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
well if it ain't finally a question that's worth answering

I boogie for the raindrops
for the purity, the anger
for my childhood recollections
for the comic book in my heart
the mocked intentions
the clarity, passion, seclusion
those cool summer nights
for the market merchant across the street selling me stoges at half price
for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating pitfall
my girl, my friends
for the fact my window opens towards a brick wall
for the three legged dog I saw dragged on a leash
for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic bags on
his feet
see I throw the weight of ten Earth's over one shoulder
and walk across broken glass
through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning
not for nothing
you'll drown in a pool of your crooked morals
whispering maybe Aesop Rock was on to somethin'

maybe, no promises
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