MAY The DAYS BE AIMLESS (Sorcery)

(album: a toothpaste suburb - 2014)

[Milo:]
Dead people don't watch me like paparazzi and there's no afterlife where they pop, lock and knock knees
The dead have a presence I could post it in a sentence
Dying is not a lived event your life insurance plan would have been better spent on your son's little league tournament
You whisper necronomicon when you've never heard of it
I'm in the front pew reciting lines that I heard from the Silver Jews through a Yoni wolf verse, like "In 1984 I was hospitalized for approaching perfection."
My stomach hurts
I look like a cat burglar
Conversations are so hard I don't want to have Aspergers I want to have veggie burger sandwiches on sesame seed buns and watch sesame street reruns
I want to console myself with energy from my childhood so I started gardening and asked questions only a child could
Computers make mistakes because of carpet static; I make mistakes and then go fart in the attic
Death marks the end of uneventful things; I've hidden so many facts in my precognitive functions. If I could unlock that map that would really be something. (Something, something)

May the days be aimless, let the seasons drift. Do not advance the action according to a plan. (x3)
May the drift be action, let the plans be aimless, do not season days according to advance

[WC Tank:]
I borrowed to a dollar to purchase a pillow at Yvonne and Raya's garage sale
I walked into the desert and saw a mirage of a floating whale and forgot to care and bought a flash lamp took a triple dog dare
Till literally firefighting not [?] autobiographical life crisis in midair
Car lights are night walls through rain windows make great events for sane people in cartoons
Angels crying at funny angles forming parenthetical clouds subdivide pyramids pull light through clear liquid
Peer through a clearing paint the path vivid
Two signs devise on either side of the divide my feet both asleep and I'm sitting in a tree
Used to be a mystery all about the energy multiple invention cross through dimensions focused attention perfect penmanship cycles of self censorship
Subvert the space to refract an active layer reverse the rate of mache to make paper plaster of paris that rasterize layers and cats survive players and pastors and mayors divinate crashes on flashdrive prayers fall fast hype-wise on invisible winding stairs the other night I dreamt of a blinding flare