Lyrics

Golden hours like mom tripping "You come down here right this instant" Sits on the front step, chips and a Sunkist Dumb for a sun-kissed brick or Pikmin I click, click, it's difficult to pick one One have to pick the wisdom in a particular condition Like plain old birds in the same old food fight Rebranded and draped in a good light Boat break from a day at the bull fight Oughta come pray in the radiant bullseye I don't blame y'all, the force awakened So I'm Flat bush Avenue forest-bathing Blood pressure ain't a touch extra My cholesterol back to nothing special Skin clear and my legs strong And my spine fused and migraine gone Done bodega spangled in a mere 35 Octillion lumens at a low angle Through incense smoke from a folding table It's basically nature's stolen cable 'til it ain't Time is a pick to the ice Right when you chilling it be chipping at the vibe Most tip a hat and slip into the hive, but I dip into the grid Rats sniffing out the mines, like Nightfall is like pop wiling It's coming in hot, try not to fight it That helicopter, that 5-0 siren CB squawking, "Find me those vice grips" A mean Brian Eno mixtape, an ego lifeless Drift in the eye of the side quest The sign read please don't feed the wildlife Unless throwing meat to mislead the night shift Son this is whirlwind country A world flushed from the brush pen of Kim Jung Gi swirling Junkyard tires and loveseats And house pets all swept up in the one beast, I love y'all Bring your adult teeth and move with the lows A pulse and a juice for the pulp Midnight, pushing up seed, Katamari Verse little old me, what army, huh? Loser, weeper in the wee hours, speaking to MU in the ether I can see him in a earth-tone low hat And throwback shoes like guess who at Easter I can bounce ideas off an angel or demon Or any other brand of Cthulhu I can rinse in the ambient wind But I can't relate the intangibles to you Crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like Crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like Crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like Crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like I walk this city strictly witching hours Feeling dangerous, feeling like I gave you power Trees rustle in they sleep, wildlife scurry to feed It's a light on in the tower Shadows move in a deep smile, rows of redundant teeth They can see who's a coward Streetlamps is buoys in oceans of black I'm swimming on my back The moon but a yellow piece of crack in the firmament Peer into the dark Copernicus Fellow travelers pass tense Wondering if it's our turn in the tournament Every morning on the steps with my little herb Every morning a mad woman come through feeding the birds Walking crazy fast, tossing fistfuls of bread Might as well be feeding the rats, but the rats already well-fed Fentanyl in the pack, if they could, they'd come back From the dead and buy it again I remember when nights was ambulance sirens Watchin' 'em put bodies inside 'em Sometimes somebody outside willing On empty streets dead silent Half empty stores scared to breathe I sit on steps now with my lil' weed I walk the long way around the 'jects Them brothers is looking a little lean I'm taciturn on the strip, I get my shit, turn and I leave Pachyderm, I never forget the faces of thieves Head full of worms, some days it's bees Some mornings the air feels clean I can see her coming, trundling down the block Then stopped, picked a dead bird off the curb Stuffed it in her bag Teeth barely bared when she hurried past
Writer(s): Ian Bavitz, Billy Woods Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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