Aesop Rock - Garbage Lyrics
The ritual goes, same window different visual.Wing of wax, or wing of gold leafChoose one. Float or plummet 20 thousand cold leguesMy nourishment's provided in the summerSo that I wonderHow y'all chasin' dreams when what's tangible still outruns yaHail dirty doll immaculate performanceWarm as the march of a billion torches forward to burn what I born atCut and paste alertness to current set is provided quickShimmy the pirate ship mast, bat the eyelids at the siren in her bow (?)Facing, let's salute the embrace pertinent generals who turned innocent hermits to burning spectacles.Flirtin' with a serpent workin' overtimeDrain the battery, siphon the poison and flood his majesty's hatchery.I was riding on the yellow bus to where the brush thickens.Yeah, an it ain't exactly plush pickin'sI'd rather take the time to burn every last bridge I've ever crossed beneath the sunThan live my life knowin' you may one day follow me over one.Snake biteBreath too heavy to hold.Caught up in the wake of the red witch tryin' to swim it.Ran for the sake of dead click stripped of idealic imageSteal a sloppy earth meal feed my pottery wheel to model collossal visionThrill, shrunken with a bucket of penniesI'ma drag my sneakers through the dirt like alligator bellies'Til the cloud burstHonour and a loud thirst submersed in a trapLittle drummer boy verse' thunderclapIn a city of garbage, tryin' to reap the harvestAdaption is the trap in which the artist meets the forestSwing your little axe or be an oak tree if you canEither way, adapt to circumstance or play you final hand.No enigma, an attempt to bury the hatchetRendered me victim of deviltry plus wounded like stigmaticsSomethin's somethin hazardousI smell an inch of differnce in this mornin's pollution pistons and how the loose ends drift inMy sour pash (?) institutions slipped in admidst the invaders and,Pardon my tone but,This garden's grown *****en' acres since my visit.Itchin' to count the layers in the blizzard to that chapter where my family inserts the dagger and twists it.It's the carnival, have you any sweets for my weary kinIt's the carnival, have you any feed for my cheery grinIt's the carnival, welcome, play our games you'll never winCoz it's that carnival where every freak show spectacle's your friend.An' I'm a,Ghostly galleon, tossed upon cloudy seasAntifreeze to glacier cookin' a look of fiery natureIt's the,Ceilin' feelin' too heavy to bless the I-beams for a fraction more collapse (I left sorry) that to your door.*****in' my back to hell's kitchen, backBurnin' murder machinery, released regardless of the pardonsHitchin my life to the leash of one minstrelSick of same window different visualSame agnostic hostage different ritualPlay, coopertive supercolony clash (I heard we have a dust collection - let me see it)Ooh, I duel this underdog verse forced adaption to the marbles of the nowSince then my knuckles haven't once dragged on the ground.In a city of garbage, tryin' to reap the harvestAdaption is the trap in which the artist meets the forestSwing your little axe or be an oak tree if you canEither way, adapt to circumstance or play you final hand.The ritual goes, same window different visual.The ritual is same *****en' window different visual.
