1. |
Crack Pipes
02:21
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“To all the people who said I wouldn't last,
Don't make me laugh, don't make me laugh!” - Lil Sage
I'd give a twenty one gunshot salute
With the toy rifle that you bought me but it won't shoot
And all is well because there's been one too many shots
The sterile robots want to talk to me about detox
Stop the presses. There's been an update delivered via a 1:30 AM phone call When an only half-informative source talks discreetly
“Meet me at the family room on the side of the Intensive Care Unit”
Immediately I carry a tune, but the sirens are so loud I can't hear my music
Keep free of negative thoughts. Everything'll be fine we all assumed
That it would go back to the way things were. That it would go back to normal soon Saw the moon in a way that I never seen it before when I looked up that night
Into the sky, wondering why, looking for answers. Guess I ain't asked right
I'm guessing most of y’all out there know exactly what that's like
(What that's like)
Now tell me, what's that like?
It's like a whirlwind of emotions that occurs when moms and dads fight
It's like when a girl grins, an emotion of hers that holds your arm and grabs tight
Hurl him into the ocean. One of them cold sweat heat-flash types
But extreme fluctuations and temperature changes have been known to crack pipes... crack pipes...
Crackpipes
Meet me halfway and I'll go that extra length just to help your strength Meet me at the AA meeting, needing to take more than 12 steps
Bring me to your hiding place so I can face your vice grip
I'll chisel every single monkey off of your back with this icepick
Come meet up with me on the sidelines when the game is over just to say hello Then afterwards, backstage, to let me know that you enjoyed the show
And go to Grandma's house for Sunday dinner. Sit at the head of table
Take away the fatal flaw you made the day before I seen you bleed
Meet me on Christmas Eve. We can fight but make up before you leave Make visits with the rest of those who rest in pieces of my dreams
Meet me at the fork in the road where the lost souls get indecisive
Meet me at the crossroads so I can have someone to walk into the light with
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2. |
Different
03:16
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"Nothing at last is sacred! Oh how the great have fallen! What have I done to myself? It's been way too long!"
We need to reacquaint. Things are different now, I ain't the same man I was Hi, how are you doing? I'm new and improved with even less to lose
A collector's edition version of a virgin-drink ordering cock tale teller
Gone way wrong. To the point of no return
Over the edge and burned out before I even got my shine Holding my head in pure doubt
Out of insight. Out of mindful things to shout or rhyme about
Yeah, I know I was supposed to change the world and all
Looks like the world got to me first
If you can't beat em, join 'em. Then hurt the team by beating yourself
I'm different...in a different way
The only thing that stays the same is change
While people claim their states, I state my claims
Sage Francis made a name for himself
For the record, my mother calls me Paul
Which was my father's middle name, but Ray
Stepped in and raised me
It's crazy, but this is a game I play called "Shut the Fuck Up"
Don't bother calling me at all because I'm not answering
Is that a voice-mail-bomb-threat or a broken promise I'm mishandling? Gambling away my money issues. Somebody owes me big bucks
My career depends on explosive vacuums sucking me in and blowing me up Poetry struck a nerve in the listenership
Spoken word then got 'em all interested
Now I don't have to serve ice cream to little kids
I get to serve emcees who think they're rippin' it
And poets who think they're somehow significant
Meanwhile both are loud and ignorant
And don't know how to speak to a crowd in an intimate environment
I am different...in a different way
The only thing that stays the same is change
While people claim their states, I state my claims
I'm a quiet natured player who outwardly hates the game
I shake what I got, which is a jingly pocket
Do my mini-market research and make noise for myself when I walk quick
I talk with authority while I question it
When I ask, "Who am I?" I'm left guessing
But if you're a poor man's version of anything it’s your self-perception
Growing up in a microscopic town prepared me well for this petri dish
Where talk is invisible to the naked eye and they hate the guy they're speaking with
I'm a real vegetarian: No chicken, not even fish
I'm a real underground rapper:
My tape quality sucks, my records are warped, and my CD skips
Lady Luck is a greedy bitch with itchy palms and a case of the gimmes
But I've got an outie if she's got an innie, I'll clean her pipes and then sweep her chimney The beat that's within me is polyrhythmic. You're only 60 heartbeats per minute
A human second-hand-me-down-to-earth-guy who will thriftshop-lift his hip-hop
I may be getting too big for my britches but I paid my dues when the cost was climbing And if I burn too many bridges I'll never get off of this awful island
As long as I've been rhyming, they only started listening
Because for a while they didn't like how I wouldn't smoke the pot that I was pissin' in Plus I had no dead homies to pour out the liquor for. I don't drink.
You can flash your shiny objects in front of my eyes and I won't blink
I'm motherfucking different
Oooohhhh yeeeaaahhhh
I'm motherfucking different
Oooohhhh yeeeaaahhhh
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3. |
Personal Journalist
02:49
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“Sage Francis. Personal Journalist. 1968 to 2001.”
He left with deep breaths in each chest that needs less innovating They're still debating over what rhyme skill is
Sick of waiting for time killers to get over there murder raps
Then he sold his own shirt off his back for cheap exposure Sought closure but stayed open minded
Always seemed to keep composure, peeking over both his eyelids Speaking vulgar in misleading cultures of ultra violence
Teaching others how to be more loving with brotherly guidance
A bleeding soldier knows the science
He does the math quick and writes without having to think twice Without asking for advice. Letting the scalps peel
Having brains picked by head lice before the scabs heal
His death mask conceals his face paint
It feels like a safe place, but it ain't
Feels like it safety-seals fate, but it don't
He's not a real saint, just another one of those religious political jokes And that's not even half of the nutshell
Cats are compelled to crack open and extract his blood cells
When he comes back from hell again
He'll have a few bones to pick with a fractured skeleton
“Sage Francis. Anti-socialite. Secret admirer
Student loner. Continental drifter. Professional bootlegger Spin doctor. Self-referentialist. Personal journalist”
Word is the worthless wordsmiths we're conversing with impersonal twists Heard they’re concerned with making the Earth shift.
These kid games are silly...
When all art is signed anonymous
He'll turn that big bang theory into a small pop hypothesis
“Sage Francis. Death merchant. 1968 to 2001 Devoted son, father to none
Husband to something soulless”
He didn't spend his life with who he loved
The hardest workers in showbiz need no diamond studded glove
His time is up. He's still the type poised to make a comeback
Kill the white noise until the sun's black
Moonwalk around New York City and get murdered by flocks of sheep Who square-dance circles inside a box of beats
The California dream sequences end quick
Couldn’t find middle ground in little towns on some midwest trip
He stood for something. Fell for every trick in the book
So he stopped believing in an Avant-Garden of Eden
Get off the cross! Of course we need the wood to burn a godless heathen Catch him red handed only if his palms are bleeding
“Sage Francis. Non-prophet. Artificially intelligent Avant Guardian angel dust mite. 1968 to 2001. It's been a pleasure. It's been a pleasure.”
But get out my weathered face with all that sunshine Get out my weathered face with all that sunshine Get out my weathered face with all that sunshine Get out my weathered face
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4. |
Inherited Scars
04:31
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"I wanna show you something,” she said
As if I had built up enough trust in her to the point where she could show me the type of thing that she had to first introduce by saying she wanted to show it to me. Instead of just showing it
Like, "Look." And I'm like, "I don't feel like looking." Like the uninterested type. So I say "Aiiiight, show that shiiiiiiit." But with a little more respect and reservation. It was my sister for Christ's sake. So I'm waiting for a follow-up line. There usually always is to statements like "I want to show you something." It kind of runs in the same vein as statements like "You can't tell anyone."
And then promises are made.
And secrets are kept.
I didn't tell anyone about what I seen or heard that day, mums the word still
I'm scared to plant ideas into your head while your rebellious side is fertile
Hurdles are getting knocked down. I'm running a losing race
Your legs aren't the only ones marked up. How many dreams have you chased?
If I could have said this to your face maybe you wouldn't have to write like I do Except I use paper instead of my body now. It's something you might want to try too From haikus to horror stories, it's something in our blood that we share
Something in our blood that appears on the surface of our skin when we bring it there My facial expression said I didn't care
Hate and aggression must've made an impression on the little kid who stared
Sitting on stairs when I would bother to bring my skates
My feeble attempt at being a strong, big brother doing father figure 8's Ripping my cape on the ground that it dragged on
Tripping on fate and hearing the sounds of a sad song
Listen, it's great sharing time now that Dad's gone
But what's with the choice of words and the body parts you decided to tag them on? I'm a vagabond who moved to modern day Babylon and then back again
With minimal contact and you know I can't ask your mom what's happening
You've got such beautiful gifts, what are you doing ruining the packaging?
How ironic. Come to think, I probably put this ink on my back for him I want you to laugh and sing more
You dropped anchor in a place where dreams go to die
And you're keeping your ass indoors
I'm asking for you to stick it out and see things through
You're asking for me to zip my mouth and keep it just between me and you Just between me and you. Between me and you.
So that’s what I’m a do. And wait for my cue
If I could have been there from the beginning
If I could be there right now
If I could promise to be there when you need me, would it raise an eyebrow? How would your body be different if I still dropped by for visits?
Is it my place to put a smile on your face?
Could I erase your body language telling you it’s all been said before?
Or change the words you wrote, exchanging your scars for my metaphors? I'd add them to my collection while smiling
Next time you want to paint with razor blades and need a canvas, use my skin
You're hiding your sins well, but I see the hell that your limbs speak
Tongue in cheek. Lying awake in bed while other kids sleep
The strength of evil begins to keep your grins weak
No matter the length of the needle, marking up one's body is so much more than skin deep Feel the pin prick. The grim reap what they sew and you're trained to say that you're fine Your threshold for pain is greater than mine
So I'm waiting in the lines that you give me, patiently
While you get cut in the lines that they make you wait in, in ways that they can't see If there's a vacancy, as far as room in your life goes
Say it to me. Don't do it with a knife under your clothes
Because the anguish of hidden skin is letting my ghosts be shown
Plus, the language it’s written in hits especially close to home
I'm most alone when I'm out of touch with the people who feel this type of pain
You might just aim for a day that it’s raining to strike a vein to take my name in Changing your uniform and altering your mindset
Has your pointer finger decided if it was a fault of his or mine yet? I bet
I know the dialect. It's nowhere I haven't been before
With skin that's sore. Battle scars that rise from our inner war
Are decorative medals of honor that our father decided to pass through inheritance And it is repetitive when the kids head in the direction of evidence
Proving the pain and hurt is relative
All this pain and hurt is relative
If I could have been there from the beginning
If I could be there right now
If I could promise to be there when you need me, would it raise an eyebrow? How would your body be different if I still dropped by for visits?
Is it my place to put a smile on your face?
Could I erase your body language telling you it’s all been said before?
Or change the words you wrote, exchanging your scars for my metaphors? I'd add them to my collection while smiling
Next time you want to paint with razor blades and need a canvas, use my skin
If I could be there from the beginning
If I could be there right now
If I could promist to be there when you need me When you need me
Give me a shout
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5. |
Climb Trees
03:53
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Sunset and sunrise are my own personal light show Flipping switches, moving from basin bottoms to plateaus The Earth manipulates itself beneath me
I stand still. Stagnate. Can't kill this lagged state
Life manipulates itself around me, but I'm dead still Upright but dead still
Word is still born. I will not stoop to the level of the stoop that y'all chill on
If the building's boarded up and the children of the corner Liquor Store don't want to kick it no more. Because holes have filled the walls, sneakers are scuffed, and toes have become sore
I saw y'all walk from the hood of tough luck
If these walls could talk they wouldn't shut the fuck up
Jump in your pickup truck, drive from the mountain range
Cash the chips in on your shoulder, cut your losses, die young and count the change
How strange. You think these clouds look lovely?
Smoke signals manipulate themselves above me
No symbols are below me enough to overlook
I know you read my every move, I wrote the book
Mind not the blemishes that are on my premise. Endlessness is my "to be continued..."
Notice the nervousness in my footnotes when being interviewed
Shaking uncontrollably. "How you doing?" "Not bad...how about you?"
Brought it right back to me like, "What you been up to?"
I don't talk to freaks. I even ignore my neighbors who live down the stairs
I walk the streets. And they don't know that I'm famous in 2000 years
So I say shit loud in their ears and I spit a wretched verse in their face
Disrespecting their personal space
In a split second, curtains and drapes get closed
They think they've shut me out, but I can see their ugly mouth in the shape of “O”’s
I'd break their windows with a stone that has a note attached
That says "I hate Jim Crow, and here's a poem to let you know the haps.”
I've got a golden axe and I chop cherry trees down
Dead to this world. Bury me now.
I am from a distant place that sits and waits for my belated time to come
But it’s too late, I've missed my fate. I eff with the deaf, blind, and dumb
My father taught me one thing; how to fire a gun
I don't bother. This is survival for fun
I have become the most sinister sin city slicker
Cynical dim-witted trickster
Critical shit-grinning hipster
Whisper...into my ear hole. Tell me not to be fearful
Be careful not to make any...sudden...movements
Show me your sole. I like to study shoe prints
You've stepped to me before! I can recognize them stubby toes
I left them guys with bloody clothes. For a second time. Nobody knows
The pain I've seen. Nobody knows the pain I've seen
Nobody knows why I've got a bloody nose or how they made it bleed
Climb trees. Go out on a limb
To find me, forget about him
Forget about hymns.
What are those psalms that you sing?
What are those songs that are in your head echoing?
I am not here to make a change
I break chains
I break dance moves and move strange...
Strange Famous is infamous for inflammatory mission statements Living in basements with subterranean secret service agents With little patience. A pediatrician who hates kids
Women's lib is getting choked to death by their own baby bibs Baby, did you know I love women who hate mankind?
I talk about it all the damn time. Keep it comin', ugh!
"I haaaaaate mennnnnnnnn.”
This conversation is mine. I own all the stock in boring small talk And I've trademarked this facial expression called "gawk."
So fuck off. I dis functions. I’m souped by ninjas in hockey fights While discussion groups infringe upon my copyrights
“All them bitches want me tonight!” I've been so great and respectful They only get salty when I bend them into the shape of a pretzel
I make them flexible when I break their schedule. It only got hard... When I asked 'em politely not to fight me and to give up. God- Damn, this is easier than I thought it would be
They'll attend any party and not fight it as long as they're invited cordially Unfortunately, I've only got so many hundred openings
But talk to me, I want to take you all under my broken wings
Who's the right man for the job?
Put up your hands, y'all, because I'm not tall enough to stand up to God Who's the right woman?!
Throw up one hand
and wave it now
I’m taking you down
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6. |
Broken Wings
03:55
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She's a fairy with broken wings
I used to watch her perform
If she hears me I hope she sings songs That had me going right back
Couldn't find anyone in town to talk
About how no one like that
Should be confined to the ground we walk
She glides so much it seems like she floats
And these folks decide to crush her wings until they're permanently broke She’d ride gusts of wind just by the way she spoke
She cries, but loves to sing songs of freedom and hope
On the east side, hustling, discussing things that we quote
In shallow conversations as if we have deep throats
We choke on our confusion, not sure if it’s a heat stroke
Or if we need coats. Trading in our cheap jokes for her C notes
I see notes being passed, I ask to see what these creeps wrote
To find these silly kids had flying privileges revoked
Ski slopes have been blocked off. They can't chance it
Had weights tied to her ankles so she most definitely can't skip town She’s held down by the transcripts my hands grip
Tried to tie her wings back on before they’re once again clipped
Panic stricken. She'll remain stuck
On a Titantic sinking. She’s trying to stay up
Changed her plan thinking it's OK. See, this is strange but
Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves in a way that kept them chained up
I'd like to see her take flight into the stars
Instead of letting her fly free, they keep her in jars
Instead of letting ‘em fly free, they keep 'em in jars
I put my hand to the glass so hard it might break the prison bars
It isn't hard to see why they keep her captive
She’s naturally attractive, speaks with adlibs, she’s uncommonly talented
Ain't enough adjectives to do her disposition justice
Kids are wishing for just a kiss and it's a mission to touch her lips
They can't trust her with freedom of movement. That's a chance to lose her quick If she ups and splits, so you might as well call that discussion quits
They have ways to keep her down. The government's underlings
Enslave people in this town, especially if their culture's rich
Exploiting talents. Making it do a bunch of tricks
With the rest of the wingless imports repeatedly told,
“You ain't a fairy, you’re just a bitch
With a butt that's thick
So rub your tits
And thrust your hips
And suck my dick.
And run your shit, and run your shit, and run your shit”
She’s a fairy with broken wings
I used to go watch her perform
And if she hears me I hope she sings songs That had me going right back
Couldn't find anyone in town to talk
About how no one like that
Should be confined to the ground we walk
When I was down in New York she'd send me letters and I read her passages
About how I left her to the savages
No matter how sad that is, I didn't cry
Because it was only a matter of time before they’d figure me out and try to strip my pride I knew the scoop. Wish you could've seen the blueprints in my eye
When I flew the coop, utilizing overground railroads in the sky It was live or die
Let me let you in on the secret of mine
Me and you are different, girl
We don't even need wings to fly
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7. |
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8. |
Smoke and Mirrors
03:09
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I am more than two faced. I've got at least six with cheap tricks
To hide my not-so-pretty side while accentuating cheeks and lips
I use battin' rouge to battle crews who don't like the remix
And you just act confused by the way I choose to fuck with a double helix Cuddle with me quick. Get befuddled and sea sick
My ugly mug'll be equipped to make it a struggle to see shit
The beat kicks. My belly feels empty, I want a person there
I'll curse and swear, and act unmother-like until I persevere
Haven't been to church in years. Right now that's the setting
Couldn't think of a better place to cover my face and have a wedding
It's upsetting how plastic my mask is getting, it's melting and releasing toxic fumes Covered by lots of perfume. Never coming out of my closet of costumes
Cartoon versions of myself get drawn out and after that occurs
Time gets consumed. I'm in the dressing room with the caricatures
Until my head is cured I'm heading for pedicures and manicures Man, if you’re not damn sure of whether or not to pop the question I'll let you in on the answer..
Think of sex in a camper...
A phony life with a trophy wife, menthol cigarettes, and cancer
Smoke and Mirrors So sophisticated So cool
I am an illusion specialist turning tricks who could never dis
The one the wake up next to even if it's not the one they went to bed with
Breakfast at Tiffany's, skip lunch, make sure the dinner table is candle lit
I squish my feet until they crunch, but I'm unable to make these sandals fit
I can't just sit, I need to move and power walk, because Oprah said it
And I won't forget it, she does it during the opening credits. I'm so synthetic
I like the smell of coke, get it? I powder my nose
Power to hoes who pound on a hose while playing in a pound of snow
I'm getting snow plowed, I KNOW!
It's time to fuck a guy now
I just applied blush and look surprised but it's the way I pluck my eyebrows
Time out. I'm in a tanning booth reading Danielle Steel
And I'm planting banana peels beneath every damn man's heel
Waiting for them to fall for my sad tricks. I stop, drop and kneel
With a little touch of magic, I'll let David cop a feel
I'm not real, but I've got feelings except in my nipples because of the breast implants To have my chest enhanced. I pant in dresses but never dress in pants
A club-hopping strobelight honey addicted to wrinkle cream
Sipping on Listerine. Mr. Clean don't like the smell of nicotine
Smoke and Mirrors So sophisticated So cool
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9. |
Message Sent
04:20
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I've got some letters inside of my drawer that should have been stamped and delivered One is addressed to my ex. It says, "I'm the type of man who can't be lived with"
One is addressed to my friends. It says, "I'm a mess so y'all can't visit"
One is addressed to myself, but I don't know which personality or hand to give it
I'm a God-damned misfit, mismatched, but never missed much
Mr. Right-time-wrong-place with a long face until our lips touch
I don't miss the mistrust, it's what got our messages mixed up
Before I rip up your letters let us see if I can tear you away from his clutch
This stuff's a whole other drawer from a different dresser I'm not ready to address I went to the west to get my mind off things, I'm already depressed
I give up, get let down, downplay, play games, put on my game face
Face my pharmaceutical needs, feed on my medicine. I don't like the way that it tastes
I go place to place without enough money to put a bed under me
I share my sleeping space with rodents, insects, and dust bunnies
I laugh at the mess I've created for myself until it gets unfunny
But I'm content in the fact that they don't expect respect, sex, love, or trust from me
When I'm hungry I can taste it
I hide in the basement
Check up on me every now and then Because my mood swings low
I can feel myself going down again
Falling off is easy
Getting put on takes a bit of ass-kissing
I'd rather listen to myself flop on the ground than hear the sound of a mattress spring I rap and sing and talk and write and often type with 2 fingers
The "hunt and kill" method
I edit one third of a word per second
Your emails sit in my unsent box. If you're a girl that I miss
You'll eventually get my virtual goodbye kiss
The rest are addressed to my friends and the subject line is "Just check this fine bitch" And the one for myself is untitled but...it's the same virus
My wrists get slit on your shoulder blades when I lose my grip when I hold your face Let it drip on your golden laced silver slip spilling all over the place
I'd lay my jacket over the blood puddle when we go on dates
To prove I'm a gentleman, pedaling my bike at a slower pace
"The sum of the parts doesn't equal the whole," she states Before my parents get home I'll take
time to find the fragments of our relationship
Glue back together this broken vase
Falling in love is easy
Falling out of love takes a bit of practice
I'm good at both without even owning a mattress
I never asked for a kiss without deserving one
If you never saw me cry before
Wait for the next time I wake up on the wrong side of the floor
I've got some letters inside of my drawer that should have been sent by now Sealed in an envelope
One is addressed to my ex and it says that I feel our friendship's a joke One is addressed to my friend and it says his ex-girlfriend's on coke
And one is addressed to myself on a personal note Unopened, filled with endless quotes
Whenever I spoke, they'd close me in and bust my lip
Now I wear parenthesis on my temples, step to the podium and just think Whenever lonely I shrink and hold myself, squeezing tight
Before I sprawl out on the hardwood floor and kiss myself to sleep at night
I have dreams of flight, but I'm not floating
The ground is approaching awfully quick
So I wake up screaming for you to catch me That's what I start every day off with
I may talk shit but ain't much else to do in this prison cell
Lucky for me no one really listens well, especially when I dis myself
I'll fly away on a pig when my living hell freezes over
And since I'm used to the cold I'll be able to rest my head on Jesus's shoulder
Explanations are in order for why these floorboards are always freezing Guess it'll all make sense once we get older and reach the Age of Reason Until then I'll have no reason to sleep in. Not even on weekends
Unless we're together because my willpower will probably weaken
Deepen my appreciation for the current condition
Because I'm sick of always feeling like something is missing
I slumber in one position. Crouched up and fetal-like
The couch sucks ‘cause my feet are like...given no space to breathe While I embrace my knees
It’s off to the floor because I can't sleep nowhere else That's where I write these letters to all of y'all
but never send 'em
It's better to just keep to myself
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10. |
Eviction Notice
03:27
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“I’m fuckin' doin' it...
This song is called Eviction Notice. It's a two-parter
It's about how drugs are the gateway to fun and flat laugh lines *Beeeeeeep*”
There's effort in her smile and it shouldn't be that way
Her last days are being snuffed out in an ashtray, and that's pricey Trying to intercept the passing away, I've asked nicely
But I've learned not to feed the hand that bites me
This morning the cradle rocks the hand
As I bang on pots and pans
She's just playing in her warning-labeled box again
She wants a man I can look up to. A role model to come through Don't bother unpacking your car-
cinogen-filled thrill sticks. This girl will spit fire
Got me doing pirouettes over her guilt tripwire
I still skip by a land mine or two. See, I've learned the landscape All the while practicing my firm handshake
Hair-trigger finger itch to spark any conversation
Said explosive personalities don't want deadly confrontation What happens in between her lips
She needs a fix more than she knows
Her friend's a bitch and needs to go
There's a note on the door
"Listen, one of us is leaving
And when I say ‘us’ I mean YOU... YOU'RE leaving”
“You're leaving...”
“You're leaving"
I'm in the house y'all, I'm in the house y'all
And ain't no little piece of paper gonna kick me out y'all! I'm in the house, I'm in the house
And ain't no legal separation gonna kick my ass out
I'm in the house y'all, I'm in the house y'all
And ain't no new boyfriend gonna kick me out, y'all! Fuck that, I'm in the house. I'm in the house
Ain't no snot-nosed brat gonna kick my ass out
Pick me!
Please leave me believe me please leave me believe me please Please leave me believe me please leave me please leave me be
“This song is called Eviction Notice. It's a two-parter
Basically it's about how sacrifice and vices will invite themselves To an overstayed welcome at your haunted house parties”
There's effort in her smile and it shouldn't be like that
Her final evenings have her drowning in a nightcap, and that's costly
Trying to keep her on the right track, I ask softly
But she just says "BACK OFF ME." And I've learned to space her private respect She breathes some room to need and every afternoon proceeds
To mix her liquid sitter while preparing baby food to feed
She wants a man I can look up to. A mentor. Fuck you.
Get your things packed
Yes, kids. The poison *is* the message in the bottle
Before the dawn she'll have to kill
All fetal positions by ingesting a morning-after pill
Crawling fast until I get rewarded for how good I've behaved
While practicing my goodbye wave
Should I stay after planning my escape routes?
Shouting out, "Is there a lifeguard in the lighthouse?"
To the rescue, bottle mouth-to-mouth between her lips she sips
She needs a fix more than she knows.
Her friend's a bitch and there's a note on the door
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11. |
Pitchers of Silence
02:41
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Had I known then what I know now
Had I thought now what I knew then..
I might still be human with all the little stupid fix-ins
As I fix sins and vixens vick souls
Stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles
Nail me to the cross dress
The holy cloth costs less
I'd toss less if I still had your soft breasts to rest my head on
Since you've been gone I recalled my issues with problems and hate
But I can't exactly remember the model or make
Now glass bottles break in my death grip
I'm about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip
My bed is stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets
But I might have to peel off all my skin to remove your scent in order to sleep I had my highs and lows
When on top, I let you peek out over my nose
Sitting on my shoulders and I suppose if I had a backbone
You might still be here
My skin is filthy..
From my lows when you weren't there. But to keep from feeling guilty
I collected the dirt. Kept it piling up
Now Mr Feel Nothing saves his tears inside of a cup
And he drinks.
And he forgets that he's an asshole
Jealous of his ghosts and doubts that he even has a soul
My secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping
I'm a ghostwriter for the horrorcore lyrics that my personal monsters sing
I'm sitting in a strangers tub..
With all my clothes on, shivering, considering the dangers of love
They get half of what I have to give. If that
It's all about the packaging. They're distracted by the gift rap
Predictable. Easy to manipulate
They're foreshadow puppets and I'm waiting for their strings to break
The pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken out
I'm in my last days now. There's a change coming soon
I just want to crawl back into my mother's womb
I need a comfort zone
But obviously I need to find another home
To call my own...and always return to
And I want it to be you
I sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep
Creating memories to remember and then I forget to eat
Went to the street you used to live on, staring at the bedroom window of your old home With puppy eyes waiting for God to throw me a bone
I'd settle for one more goodbye kiss while I settle for less
I'm unsettled at best. Sulking while abandoning settlements
Insulting my companions intelligence. Conversing with baby talk
Playing with mind games. Rehearsing with playful thought
It’s the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold
When you made me walk through rain and mud puddles down a dirt road
It left me
so messy
Forget me
not.
I've got more mud to sling...
shot.
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12. |
Specialist
04:09
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The one that I'm with thinks sex is a beautiful thing
and that's simply adorable
When my time is affordable, dimes pay the price I get abusive and that's the truth
It's just a fucking shame this is how I choose to communicate Excuses I produce have their roots in the music I make She's not a fan
Nor am I famous
I may just change and adjust when I branch out and leave Get off my damn couch and achieve
What I dream about, leave my house, hand out my keys To the sleepless beauty who failed math class
and can't count her Z's
The tree dies
She says that she's mine. She's my proprietress
I can't hold on to most of what I owned
Besides she likes to kiss
and that's cute
I hug her till I start to hurt her
She wants to dance to my pulse, but I've got heart murmurs
A shark circles our lifeboat ‘til its fin folds
The monster we created might choke in clothes
I'm naked walking tight ropes without big toes
You couldn't see this with the night-scope if my skin glowed Falling. Calling for a safety net
The great white might drain me on my life
Bite into my veiny neck where dreams of falling asleep
Could dry up once she sees that I bleed off beat
Head over heels because she's tripping on her own feet
That puzzled look on her face still isn't complete
She gives bits and pieces of herself
While I'm breaking myself open, I pour my contents onto her shelf Pardon me but is that me wearing my heart out on my sleeve With razor sharp teeth
Gnawing at my wrist
how beautiful is this?
The most beautifullest thing in this world
Is making up words when I have none else left to say to a girl Making her curl up in a ball in a corner of my eye
Taking a timeout, I don't want her to cry
I don't ever want to be considered the sort of guy
Who says, "I just might break your face tonight"
I spread my love like the legs of a crack whore
We sleep together but don't sleep to keep it simple
You dance around me like a fire. Blow me away
I spread my love like the legs of a crack whore
We sleep together but don't sleep to keep it simple
You dance around me like a fire blow me out
And I’ll send you love poems in the form of smoke signals *cough*
Over-average marriage materialist, mister righteous
A savage miscarriage of justice.
Just us and a dust that never settles
I'm rust that spreads on metal to make it weak plus disgustingly ugly. Nobody wants to fuck with or touch me
Under-appreciative with a with a hundred weaknesses
What do I need to live?
The blood I bleed is thicker than the skin I shed people with
I beat a fist to the air
Pretend to make believe she cares
‘Til I open up old wounds and the usual bruises on my ego appear
I'm a low self-esteem engine in need of a whore’s power
Out of sleeping powder
Dark clouds follow me with heat-seekers. I need a colder shower
The showboat won’t expose his open-ended quest
Because it won't float if it turns out these are permanent echoes in his chest I think it’s best to turn the reverb down
Kill the delay
Get me the fuck out of this cave
I could paint you pictures all day
But I'm not gonna pander to Neanderthals that way
Nah. I'm not gonna pander to Neanderthals today
The one that I'm with thinks sex is a beautiful thing
She thinks I'm something special
She's my specialist and more beautiful than sex
Because only something like sex could make something so lovely turn ugly and fuck up shit I'm holding a sleepless beauty pageant on my shark-infested waterbed until it's punctured
I spread my love, spread my love, spread my love until I pull a muscle Spread my love, spread my love, spread my love until it’s see through Spread my love like the legs of a crack whore
We sleep together but don't sleep to keep it simple
You dance around me like a fire
Blow me away. Blow me away. Blow me away
I spread my love like the legs of a crack whore
We sleep together but don't sleep to keep it simple
You dance around me like a fire
Blow me out and I’ll send you love poems in the form of smoke signals
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13. |
Hopeless
01:08
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I played connect the dots with your beauty marks and I ended up with picture perfect sheet music. I read your musical notes with a composer's eyes and heard our song for the first time. My spine is still tingling. Mental images of your fine tune is what I've been nodding my head to lately and every now and then you can catch me humming your nudity under my heavy breath. I heavily suggest you resurrect your ancient, neglected dust-collector if you distrust the dissonance in my seldom plucked heart strings. Sit stripped before your full length mirror. Perform your reflection backwards. Maybe then you’lll understand the rhythm in my movement. Listen when the news is sent. Because it’s then when the rules are bent. I’ll be waiting to take your lead. Make me a victim of your two step. Make me an apprentice of your body parts. Teach me the dance to your beauty marks. I’m stepping on toes here and I don’t care. It’s hopeless. It’s hopelessness. It's hopelessness holding this openness to blow a kiss so close your lips but don't get pissed and throw a fist at this vocalist. I'm not emotionless. In fact I broke my wrist when I wrote the list of all those I miss. This is my poker face. Mr. Feel Nothing
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14. |
Kill Ya' Momz
01:54
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15. |
Black Sweatshirt
02:04
|
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Tonight I'm in the mood for some unscheduled affection
Spontaneous combustion. I'm playing with my fire inside
Burning my inner-child blackened his skin to the tint of his sweatshirt
Hey...when you play with the big boys, you get hurt
I used to suck my thumb while rubbing silk blankets across my cheek
Until my mom denied me access. I bawled for weeks
We don't speak to this day.
I came to terms with my fear and loathing
Now I wear this clothing like it's an extra layer of old skin
Afraid to shed. Tears in the fabric from years that I've had it
Found abandoned on the stairs to the attic
Collecting runaway skin cells, absorbing memories
It's been to hell and back, dragged through the dirt, and even worn by enemies Born in the 70's of the 20th century
Making that distinction is for future reference in case y'all remember me
And my genesis. What's most important is to remember this
Women and men are pissed. When they kiss they exchange spit that is venomous Most of it is affection-less and the effects of this has us quick to clench a fist
Don't get fancy with your paintbrush when you reminisce
I'm sentimental and I miss what used to be close to me
Or maybe I've just got OCD and I can't break my old routines
Hopefully I’ll reconcile with my inseparables; what lies inside from head to toes Instead of symbolizing clothes. Identifying with outside symbols
Cut out the middle man
But my woobie is in demand...
I'm feeling like a kid again
It protected me from the wind, sea and sand
Sanity was saved from the crazy cemetery walks
And every awkward moment spent talking with the Boogie Man Man managed unconditional comfort. As I've come to understand... The monsters are under my bed again
The monsters are under my bed again
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16. |
Cup of Tea
02:10
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Every midnight we sit at the coffee table and we share a cup of tea He stays up with me and we discuss things
Most of the time he just listens
Other times offers suggestions or he just ignores my questions
It gets more depressing as time passes Every night I ask this one question
And all he does is wipe his glasses
It's aggravating as hell
I'm just waiting to tell whether or not he can even remember the answer Whether or not he's choosing not to tamper with his memory
Whether or not he can even fucking remember me
What a waste of time
But every night it's that same damn routine
One green cup of tea and me stuck all by myself once it’s empty
And then I'm off to bed with plenty of caffeine to keep me up and thinking The cup I'm drinking from is never clean
I can't remember if it's a dream once I awake and I walk
From my messy bed and anticipate our next late night talk
You don't scare me. Why are you still sitting here. I'm not afraid of you. You are not intimidating. What is it that you want from me? I'm not leaving. I want to stay. I want to stay.
Every midnight we sit at the coffee table and we share a cup of tea He stays up with me and we discuss things
Most of the time he just listens
Other times offers suggestions with his awful expressions
Altered reflections. His whole aura is see-through
With more confessions. I don't want to leave you
This cup should be bottomless. As my insecurities spill
I see his face fading away. I surely need a refill
I purposely keep still and don't move much
Except to wet my lips with sips, with every kiss of death I lose touch I sip the tea carefully because it’s at the degree of separation Tasting the forked tongue in bilingual conversation
Waiting for his answer still, and at any given chance I will
Sweet and Low my bitter past. Let the cancer kill the small talk Alright man, this bitter taste in my mouth needs to get washed out Ghosts in this house don't have anything timely to talk about
The concept is dead. There's nothing death should interrupt
I went to bed last night with one sip left in the cup
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17. |
My Name Is Strange
03:17
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Rollin' on some lonesome highway east of Omaha
You can listen to the engine rollin' out as one long song
You can think about the woman
Or the whore you mongered the night before
Sometimes you can’t hear 'em talk. Other times you can
All the same old cliches: "Is that Sage or Xaul Zan?"
And you'll always feel outnumbered when you go to the Scribble Jam Uh, ah, uh, uh, ah, uh, ah, uh
Say here I am. On the road again Here I am. Up on the stage
Here I go. I'm playing a star again Here I go. My Name Is Strange
When you walk into the restaurant, strung out from the road
You can feel the eyes upon you as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you when they ask if they can download Uh, ah, uh, uh, ah, uh, ah
Later in the evening, as you lie awake in bed
With the echos from the amplifiers ringing in your head You smoke the day's last emcee, ridiculing what he said
Uh, ah, uh, uh, ah, uh, ah, uh
Say here I am. On the road again Here I am. Up on the stage
Here I go. I'm playing a star again Here I go. My Name Is Strange
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18. |
Runaways
06:07
|
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It's time to rethink every fact that is imaginable
Survival instinct dwells in a past that is inhabitable
I happen to pull fast ones over the slow parole board who likes to speak To de-fanged wolves who cry sheep
Time seeps into our skin. Age indicates how long we've been lost in space I keep putting expressionless looks on my face
An awful waste of human skin who waits for Autumn to begin
My fall from grace will do me in. Too late, I'm out of seasoning
No spring chicken summer romance novel writer could win a prize
That’s nobel. Go to hell in a writing vehicle that ain’t winterized
I change my mind more often than my undergarments
About abortion and other nonsense
I'm an orphan who comes from Providence
I am a sign from God. For the parentally misguided and I know
My state is not an ocean, not an island, not a road
If I don't know where I come from how do I know where to go?
It's not where you're from, not where you're at
It's where you’re going. And I am going home
(And I know...)
My state is not an ocean, not an island, not a road
If I don't know where I come from how do I know where to go?
It's not where you're from, not where you're at
It's where you’re going. And I am going home...
To the land of the lost souls
Feeling a loneliness that really only exists in abandoned foster homes
How many images of missing kids can be fit onto a milk carton?
Framed. They're starting to look the same
Starting to say his name and claim privileges as if they found *him*
The strangest little kids surrounding the circle of false friendship
Rings of fire. Arms are connected at the elbow
Cause their tired moms unexpectedly let go
The velcro-like component that keeps their unit cohesive?
It's the music. So we give reasons to get sober. Life experiences to hum to These kids play Red Rover, I look for weaknesses to run through
With reckless abandon. They're standing. Refuse to go down
The pinballs in their machine bounce between abusive homes now
If it’s fight or flight they'll just choose to throw down
Ain't nothing like beating a dead horse, riding it through a ghost town
I move with no sound. I used to think I was invisible
Until they stopped me mid-stride and said, "I think I seen a picture of you..." Picture that. I said, "Nah, I just got one of them faces
Placed next to an expiration date that changes.”
I kind of look familiar. My name is at the tip of your tongue
The lost look on my face makes you play dumb
Say something colloquial. I need to get my bearings
And a feel for where I'm at, but you ain't hearing that.
They shout, “Freeze!” I'm a tourist trapped by townies
Who put bounties out on me in all surrounding counties
Before I bounce I hear them shout, “Can someone help us out, please? We're all alone in the foster home killing ourselves with the house keys.” Not every broken home can come equipped with a fix-it man
And it's a smelly mess once the shit hits the fan
Kids just stand in their circle jerks with their dicks in the sand
Saying "FUCK THE WORLD" because they ain't got no girl. Who do they think I am? Think again. I'm not that quick to plan ahead of time
I'm two steps behind their schedule. They pretend to have read my mind
I think they just misread the lines in the palm of my hand, because
They're random scars caused by slap boxing with landlords
I ran with the dogs until I realized they were all mutts
Turned bitch once the dog catcher caught up
Forced into trucks, boarded up, put to sleep in the pound
Being an orphan sucks but I'm done with sneaking around
I see my frown posted up on street lights and telephone poles
From what they show it seems like I never grow old
From what they show it seems like I never go home
And that doesn't seem right because they won't let me grow
And this is where some go
To avoid the sun rays and the noise of subways
Emerging introverted, unemployed and unshaved
I feel rewarded offering a finder's fee that I know no one will pay And this is where some go
To avoid the sun rays and the noise of subways
Emerging introverted, unemployed and unshaved
I've got multiple personalities and my inner children are runaways
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