Lyrics

I like drawing pigeons People tend to feed 'em or forbid 'em Either way it's rare to see 'em individually considered There's always like a million eating cigarettes and ketchup I take a lot pictures, I been cropping out the extras I been studying the independent measurements and metrics The postures and the body types, the patterns on the feathers Like some ritualistic tattoo dating back to their ancestors While the bib and neck come dipped in precious amethyst and emeralds It's a pity about the stigmas How the cooties overshadow any beauty that enrich us A white dove symbolizes peace and pacifism A white dove is a pigeon, you muffugas is bigots Yo, 3 toes forward, one toe ain't 1 AM sketching muscles on a plump little frame Plus I love your pretty orange eyes and dumb little brain I'll add a nimbus to atone for how we sullied the name Phone, wallet, coffee, keys, lighter I'm headed for the beyond, I'm a need a cease fire Lighter, keys, coffee, wallet, phone The whole street is lava, the beyond is not a go I seen this one Da Vinci exhibit In which they reconstructed dozens of machines he invented From diagrams in his codex, open and beautifully scanned Marvels of engineering, broke up by Vitruvian Man Margin exploding with the future like it grew from his hand Plus every annotation backwards, homie, who is this man? I bet his brain projected images of orbiting equations That would later become warships, or attempts at aviation Or some irrigation system steering water different places He could picture and commit to paper from a grip of angles Honestly it's pretty overwhelming Contraption after contraption that had us "holy hell"-ing Later in the afterglow, grab a tablet, have a go I might invent some vehicle, or diving suit, or catapults, or... Fast forward to the morning I had caught a thousand tags and drew a half a pigeon poorly, oh well Phone, wallet, coffee, keys, lighter I'm headed for the beyond, I'm a need a cease fire Lighter, keys, coffee, wallet, phone The whole street is lava, the beyond is not a go I told my homie I had drew some pigeons And was feeling like it could be the root of future submissions It'd be cool to draw a thousand and layout a book of sketches He said "how many you got?" I said "like 6 or 7"... 'What?!' He said "a thousand is a lot" I said "that's why it's gotta be an actual thousand on the dot I hit 'em with that thousand to make up for what they not Once you mix that many bodies it becomes about the flock." He told me "if you do it, its a cruise to manufacture" I took it as a challenge, but regretted it soon after See the point was always celebrate the individual vessel That I pitched a package deal at all is pretty disrespectful Plus a thousand is a lot Sometimes I get excited before really sizing up the job I think I drew like one more on a red-eye into Queens I ain't even make a dozen, I been eyeing other things
Writer(s): Ian Bavitz Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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