Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Aesop Rock

Oh Fudge

 

Oh Fudge

(album: Garbology - 2021)


Stirring up the pot
Add a couple worms, herbs from the swamp
Conjure up a curse, turn a person to a frog
Courtesy the blob with the shirt full of snot
Plus mildew, pretty much a ball of sticky stuff and soft tissue
Hemoglobin, cat hair, peanut butter, coffee
Born with a cough and a finger in the frosting
I can't stop sweating, people at the store say "I think that man's melting"
The fan's not helping, it's probably a job for Abraham Van Helsing
I woke up on fire and speaking a dead language, backwards
Several octaves deeper than his average, the "how" is not important it's the translation that matters
It says "Beware the flesh in which archaic evils gathers", goddamn
I slosh when I move, mop not a broom, my body ate my shoes
Mold on his robe, moles on moles, I don't have any bones
Retreats from the sun, bleeds from his gums, I sleep in the tub
Fever and a cold, teeth in many rows, I'll eat a whole goat

Earlier this morning several hunters from the region, put a BOLO on his spirit, call the number if you see it
Container at the bungalow, bubbling at the gum line, the bushy-tailed and bug-eyed, come in every color fungi
Oh fudge, my new form isn't in the folklore
The new norm wasn't in the brochure
There's no known cure
Nothing more to figure out, just sit around and grow horns, germs on germs on germs
Slide-through, cry you a river of soft serve
My snail trail exhibit infinity wrong turns
I'm gelatin, forever in line for the hors d'oeuvres
Coat full of crab toast, foam at the whistle
Future of a puddle with a phone in the middle
With no signal, it's emotional

I slosh when I move, mop not a broom, my body ate my shoes
Mold on his robe, moles on moles, I don't have any bones
Retreats from the sun, bleeds from his gums, I sleep in the tub
Fever and a cold, teeth in many rows, I'll eat a whole goat

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?