Gauze
(专辑: Spirit World Field Guide - 2020)
Some of you know me already Those of you who don't, you're in for a
great big fucking surprise For those of you who do can expect an infinitely more horrible time than they care to remember I
drag in the
cat that drag in the
conversation piece Yahweh-forsaken elite, hemlock in the
pot every day of the
week, I'm a
lot Reach in, even the
odds or evolve into mystery meat for the
broth, who's eatin'? Scream for his mom all evening, moxie a
seasonal fog Palmful of grease, skied through "Keep Out" signage Weed in his sock, beacon of snot Knee-deep evil to plot through a
fever, maid threw his Rod of Asclepius out Spring and bell exploding through my Polartec Got a
soul and vessel, don't coalesce Got a
nosy compulsion to overstep I
write 8-bit maps for the
so depressed From the
croc in the
moat to the
gold in the
chest Notice I
don't program any actual way to progress To convey an effect Hot Vinyasa to bated breath That fray, that plague, that bayonet That hate, that face of death That all-in together, I'm afraid that train has left I
ain't wade through bullshit or baby step Pop off into flesh, no beta test I
bump Raising Hell, I
make raisin bread Raised on wolf's milk and Eraserhead I'm all good Quietly hacking away at a
hideous riff on the
formula What is the
work if it isn't a
ticket to slip into vivid euphoria? Huh? (You know we're being watched) (You know we're being watched) I
brought gauze Two kind of knives Carrots for the
horse Tie his own flies If you're coming, bring soap Something for the
cough A
million feet of rope Maybe more gauze (One, two three four) Ayy, grey beard, wayward Parade wave and vacate the
framework Phased out, trade for blank tapes and bait worms, eek Ease in the
weeds, no safe word, K? No kayfabe, all true tales from the
pay grade Heavy on malaise and away games The
tiptoe tailed by a
trail of craters I
am way too Canis Major, et tus? Let me guess, you tout the
brave few Then make Jesus take the
wheel by day two I
don't really pander or plan to behave If the
police sketches a
hand from the
grave, unholy Don't luminol the
upholstery His poor old Nonna would roll on her rosary, I
know I
go from a
homie to bogey and ghost I'm sorry if you know me as both I
still float hearts from the
haystack I
give free hugs in a
plague mask I
don't trust none of y'all's love to be more than a
cheap toy gun with a
bang flag Ayy, sultan of simple fare No lie, roll by, we can lick the
air It's an appeasement gesture, not a
rib tip rare But the
bistro don't split silver hairs I
made peace with a
lot, but a
lot of it sits Still, genuine props on the
bottomless pit Backseat drive with a
lazy drawl I
don't aim to please, I
don't aim at all, I'm okay Actively seeking to underdevelop his sentimentality Why am I
here if it isn't effectively cutting the
hellions out of me, huh? (You know we're being watched) (You know we're being watched) I
brought gauze Half a
dozen flares Couple clean jars Strike anywheres If you're coming, bring fuel Map of the
stars Any canned food Maybe more gauze See? I
got a
rope A
camping knife with an itsy-bitsy fork and spoon And a
place to hang my canteen