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Aesop Rock - The Tugboat Complex lyrics
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 eyeAesop Rock - The Tugboat Complex - http://motolyrics.com/aesop-rock/the-tugboat-complex-lyrics.html
 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
 Aesop Rock The Tugboat Complex











