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Aesop Rock - The Tugboat Complex Lyrics

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  • Oh my God
  • They've got angels sweatin' like Hell, it's
  • workin' their little halos to the bone combing them deserts
  • my figure eight knotted
  • lifeline defined traffic
  • the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day
  • one exquisite fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
  • to the ceiling above my bed
  • it's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles
  • unleashed more of a clue
  • so when I wake up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
  • I slide like Kodakrome(?)
  • wrote a poem for every planet
  • tracked their mileage from the sun in an envelope
  • licked it, stamped it
  • got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
  • only the earth would thank me later with a breath taking sunset
  • (man, I'm just a bum)
  • zip that waterfall around your skeleton
  • tell it to boil
  • loyalties, the shovel in the soil
  • dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter
  • nursed the blister in the sun
  • strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood
  • might of worked
  • sip a little, litter it, love it
  • without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
  • might of, tugboat for the boxcutter above those ashes
  • without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets
  • and I'm asking you
  • to let a captive lacerate a caption
  • splash out massive
  • apolster plastic glasses with famine patches
  • i-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth
  • and for a second taste of pain when removing that crown of thorns
  • ?????,???,???, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle masochist
  • stamp the blame on ??? ???
  • my fire escape overlooks ghost town market place
  • artists bought out passes
  • then fast themselves to the target's face
  • you're killin' me
  • if I had a hammer, I'd build a city on stilts
  • so my feet would stay dry when God's wine glass tilts
  • if I had a shovel, I'd dig a hole in the dirt
  • and I'll be hiding when his drunken stupor lands upon earth
  • and if your little wing is broken
  • I'll see the poacher in hell
  • I can't afford another ????? in a cell
  • my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand leaking spickets
  • and a colony of graziers raised to justify the grimace
  • (and yes I read the treaty)
  • I prescribe the remedy plus the premises
  • my pin cushion, my limbs pushin' the knitting needle
  • evils, idle, peddle past the greeting
  • where the sleepers feed the cycles
  • stop, watch the eagles board the little engine that could not
  • ghost in a shell
  • and it fell in my lap
  • passin', postin' the bail but the guard has misplaced the key ring (that's
  • wonderful)
  • I lead a flee to blaze exact songs directly into the village
  • power supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye
  • now how many cadavers satisfy a mad man?
  • and how many crooked samaritans turn plesantville to bad land?
  • I can count my own dusty nickels with you laughing
  • about you'll turn my poor ass ebony and navy with cane lashings
  • (well, you're right)
  • grip your pointed stick, incite your riot
  • I'll sell your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias
  • atomic box cult, downward spiral rapidly
  • cast to hell with hate mail, forged Christ's autograph
  • laughed itself, drastic catastrophe
  • biting my lip
  • skin and bones, stringent
  • bingin' on rancid baits
  • mummified well inside a muddy New York minute
  • was it
  • your remnants my smoke rings have cocooned prior to fading?
  • well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have been that
  • I am not your friend anymore
  • my arrow head dissertation(?)
  • when narrow bed sleepers occupy the basement
  • and I am not your friend anymore
  • come the dawning of ???? in your pity blend that whispers in the wind
  • man, if it were only that simple
  • I'd add a guilt frame to ???
  • I'd board myself inside my room to trace the wilting contour
  • one petal falls to the rug, she loves me not
  • town crier lugging a boom box with spirit plugs
  • and a red radio flyer
  • tied to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot
  • fiddler crabs build sandcastles while high tide off azalea crops
  • in the icicle field I portray, cats get antsy
  • and ask 'why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?'
  • why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
  • why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
  • why if every light is dark do I continue dancing?
  • well if it ain't finally a question that's worth answering
  • I boogie for the raindrops
  • for the purity, the anger
  • for my childhood recollections
  • for the comic book in my heart
  • the mocked intentions
  • the clarity, passion, seclusion
  • those cool summer nights
  • for the mark emerging across the street selling me stog's at half price
  • for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating pitfall
  • my girl, my friends
  • for the fact my window opens towards a brick wall
  • for the three legged dog I saw dragged on a leash
  • for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic bags on
  • his feet
  • see I throw away the tenders over one shoulder
  • and walk across broken glass
  • through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning
  • not for nothing
  • you'll drown in a pool of your crooked morals
  • whispering 'maybe Aesop Rock was on to something'
  • maybe, no promises

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