Free download
Song Info
Genre
Charts
#1,136 in subgenre
Peak #8
Charts
Peak #1,219
Author
ScareCrow Joe
Rights
Joe Houck 08'
Uploaded
January 29, 2009
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.0 MB • 128 kbps • 5:28
Lyrics
Perpendicular lines to meet beat by: BLOCKHEAD: SUNDAY SÉANCE
Clear the throat,
I’m Stepping across this threshold with a crucifix and a pitch fork ready to dig up these roots, find my nitch, for all the unborn’s cursed with a dim stork,
or point the finger at that proverbial poacher peaking his barrel out da window, replace it with an arthritic catalytic grandmother’s apple pie on the seal, fuck that for awhile, see what spawns of it, like hey! Let’s make a deal!
Scoot on the fate, grace the peasants cooler populous amen to sin Caligula,
And here I go again contradicting my contradictions again, I’m evil, your evil the women’s evil The Evil women with jagged intentions,
calls me out beneath the hollow tree, but I see the serpentine, circling my mezzanine, slithering into my bed to cuddle up close while she peals away pieces of my lucid dream,
NO,
I walk with a big stick through life that peddles the onslaught of thought to no wife, back off while I sleep woman, can’t get to comfy, plus how am I supposed to spoon with or a jack knife?
Tell me that, tell me what you think. Of constellation stars that stretch as you can sink.
Uhhh….Well…..
That wasn’t a rhetorical question but ill lend you some 1eway
Study these pencil sketches and sell them on eBay for some profits you can reap and see right away, you subsidiary ghouls can’t see the power it poses anyway.
Bite your nails cuz this shit’s not what your used to (useta), raise the colored threat level to fuchsia!
When I spit hell fire and brimstone in omitted center sin poem, from the depths of the unknown it’s kinda like Branch a geriatrics brain to the fountain of youth and throw’em back in a convalescent home. Lobotomize the offspring and spit’em out as affluent celebrant clone. It’s sad really…..ok I’m over it.
Cuz you see
See every day that I wait; I wipe this spittle off my chin
With an Acrimonious next of kin, apple advised to fall far, but landed deep within.
Sunny boy
Bite down on a couple of these supple roots and suckle the sweet nectar we call mortal sin.
I want a woman whose kisses are sweeter than my cigarettes, till then I’ll take a pack of camels, make my lungs pay the cost for bitter lips
Though I ain’t no saint, I’ve succumbed to forked tounges with curvy hips
Lust boat for love boat
Same vessel, different colored paint coat
Her loose lips sink both ships
Not me, scapegoat
And you can catch me on the sidelines pleading,
Why can’t you just be perfect, I got patients,
can’t conform then salutations.
Perfect storm, alert the nations.
And I’d like to say
I’ve come full circle now
Better to drink wine from paper cup,
than staunch the heart turned purple now.
But I’ll never be like that,
Always one notch below on this totem pole, but what really matters in the grand scheme of things, it’s how much you tithe, how many experiences you suppress to pass the test to prove you’re not really alive…..yet
The hell with that….
I sit and wait for these perpendicular lines to met, sipping on fine wines discreet, that’s two buck chuck, for you dumb fucks, with some limburger cheese, to put your senses in orbit, halt to speed for the next best dressed whore, you know you adore it,
And I’ll sit at the back of the world mumbling to myself,
who’s the next to perch up on the pedestal? Search with a fangless comb, victim of hodgepodge assortment; walk to invite the splints to the shins like side show freak contortment.
I’ll admit I’m judgmental, but I promise with a scalpel and a smile I’ll be gentle.
Shhh…you hear that?
There’s Raindrops on the Doppler screen, dew point peaks turns my stretches of my sneakers into splashing arid seekers, sit soaked and wait, for reinforcements running their tires down to the cotton wires, Spinneret informant.
Patients is a virtue, that trait’s a tramp out way past its curfew
