The Substance
(专辑: Music For Earthworms - 1997)
Four rooms, a
ceiling and a
floor but there's more: (close to insanity) A
desk with a
subtle light, a
window, and a
door; (close to insanity) One bottle of the
bluest inks your iris ever saw; (close to insanity) One child prodigy with a
vision in his core. (close to insanity) (yeah, yo) I'm frost bitten, slipping away in titanic burden nurses Where the
anti-hero clergy purge their value burning service And warped was I, huddled beneath the
influence of fresh, Meshed with impressions that appear to shrink before my very breath. (Breath) These tides of woe and malice and mirth initiate a
wave crash, Splashing my offspring graves prior to birth, it's looking bleak. Malarky farce sergeant crooked and sleek emerald eyes glow; I'm shook in a
freak side show! OK, I
strobe effects projective when I
blink So I
design this chorus line. When linked we let our eyelids fall and pilots stall. With what I
sing, I'll open lash light and dark clash to dim the
wattage, Then see the
wide-eyed dry grays, and supplied fiery Colossus. Well, I
am a
hostage. Guiding, yet, pushed beneath the
crazes' climate. Hiding behind the
levy while the
stubborn rivers rise and feel this. I
wish heavenly brevity centered hate pedigrees instead of dead serenity. God damn. Must have remembered me. It clinched me, it wrenched me, tempted me to employ it, Apprehended me, and rendered me suspended in its voyage. How these tables have turned! Hand to the
bottle with the
skull and crossbones scribbled off the
label, Sip the
ladle. Drank the
burn. Begging for dead! Concerns off with a
zephyr tread and leg in a
web, Caught triple-six couriers; beckon, they fled. OK, OK, I
get it... Let 'em shake a
little, then release 'em, Like, as if ghostly hysterics would leech on band aid completion. Odium, patience ran his anti-death commando Just a
litigant stretching to touch tranquil, but couldn't quite catch the
angle. I'm trained as cornerstone famine trooper So my tray within a
heart of hearts still belly up and parched, come on... (yeah, yeah, check it) I'm a
sideline observer alerted not yet retreating. (close to insanity) The
climate stubbornly hovered slightly above freezing. (close to insanity) Now everybody in the
populace awaited my reply: (close to insanity) I
spit a
billion tiny brilliant white lights into the
sky (close to insanity) Undeniably amused by the
way the
fuse burn, By the
way the
clues churn in front of my eyes... To fertilize germination of concern for me, for we, For he who's sucked into the
trench, fully dug. I
don't wanna pull the
plug... Hug on my canteen like in a
dream, Centipede leader speeding through a
meaty greed league, I
can tell by the
way the
needs bleed from a
seed, If the
breed should have ever been bred. 'Nuff said... Whether compared to caterpillar and cocoon, To emerge, or a
spark's soon to bloom to a
surge, All I
need is the
nourishment, the
courage and the
burn To ascend from a
number, to brave Blade Runner. Hunter, cleric, swordsman, king... More like I'm walking with a
broken mood ring. Mood swinging from the
mezzanine level, Here to bevel the
edge. My team's settled on the
ledge to pledge. It's like that. In the
summer it rains buckets of hunger pains. In the
winter it's the
same, with an added climate change. The
remaining two quadrants balance the
polar values equally for midrange, Yet the
songs of thirst remain the
same. You could turn the
whole cold reservoir to liquor, Hell, split the
ocean on its seams if it boosts your esteem. I
never lend span of attention lest my brethren signal fresh, So do your magic, miracle worker, or I'll remain unimpressed. For the
flux, the
fix, the
famine, For the
fact that little Billy up the
block obtained a
lovely hand cannon, I'd examined auto-pilot (right) when filibuster won... (yeah) Concluded the
few we're tuned with were now targets of his movement... (oh shit) It's intriguing. Yet, I
guess, I
knew somewhere, something was leaking. Now I
honor instinct, delinquent. Bring settler runaways, frayed boogie bastard clicks To bypass glass stature, walking graff characters... Militant dance split the
sun and sip the
filament... Tracer. Vivisection is to lab rat primes; They try to grace these sacred lips with his maze or a
dirty wine. He knew. He brewed the
substance just to mock the
lesser budgets, Then sought off all trickery, bought off the
public, and screamed victory! Tunnel through the
mite infested grillage and the
rig As fast as Aesop and his ten little fatigued fingers could dig, trigger revenge, tip the
goblet in the
dirt, review my words, spit in the
puddle. Peace to fame, struggle the
fuck out, and duck out. (yeah, check, huh, uh) Now, all hail defenders of the
trash talk. (close to insanity) I
was hidden, yet I
slid in just to rip the
mask off. (close to insanity) I'm seventy-six inches of all the
purest sounds (close to insanity) So y'all could dig me six feet deep my eyes would still be over ground! (close to insanity) (It's like that)