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Specialist

from Personal Journals by Sage Francis

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lyrics

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

credits

from Personal Journals, released April 16, 2002
Beat by Controller 7.

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