The Uncluded - TV on 10 Lyrics
[Verse 1: Kimya Dawson]Take a deep breath, try to relaxJust close the shade, don't start to panicHope there's no map, in the seat backCause if I know, where we're atRight as we cross to blue from greenThe fiery terror will engulf meYou hold my hand reluctantlyBut you look at me like I am crazy"Planes almost never crash," you say"Almost never isn't never," I say as I shakeAnd I fight back tears, my biggest fearSomething going on while we're up hereEyes closed tight until we land, I don't care if it's rareIt happens(x2)It happens...(Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten)It happens...[Verse 2: Aesop Rock]Five in a den with a TV on 102-29 meeting and I see beyond thenMarried to marathon of bad cable axisTimes while the gravitron axis wind*, told me how to hide for the clubToast of the tigers arrive in a rut***To instructOn his own yet * * knife in the gutSo I hold up light was a fiber to clutchWednesday 9, to 98 but reallyNot even a cline of your time and spaceSurf in a 20 inch tubeAnd a home video of a news-cutter roomBut a casual flip was a light-show dice rollLooking for a chuckle, might stumble on a cycloneThis just in: tale of a plane crashTypical affliction of flinch that change pastsHarsh but the city piles stiffs like a haystackEither you're a needle or a gray maskOne channel up, wait, baby, change backOkay, a dose of the old death toll gameFACT: MD-11 in the oceanClose to the coast of a cold Nova ScotiaLeft JFK, smelled smoke in the vultureFound fire in the hole, never found closureNow a quote from his homeboy Jeremy:My mother took a night flight out of KennedyWhat? Yup, she was Switzerland boundAh, dude, she's fine, dude, she's fineWhat you're thinking is an impossibility of designTurn it up a second if need a little peace of mindHalifax divers find no survivorsWe just need the name of the city you were flying towardsIt's not like any of us knew the routingBut the given alternative isn't one we were allowingHere's where the room run a fever:Five in a den waiting on a flight number through a speakerAnd I never knew a number as a cleaverTil an anchorwoman utter "Swiss Air 111 to Geneva"HOLY. *****ING. SHIT.What just happened? That doesn't happenWe were just sitting here normalNow they got a motherless child with a father and a widower to phonecallI remember that you rode your bike homeNY autumn like a fright-night fight songFour stayed up late with the lights onCombing over every last scale in a pythonYou were in the hearts of the posse you were raised inSpoke of in the same breathe as powerful and brave menLearned life outta death, live with his friendsFive in the den with the TV on 10(x3)Annotate
