ish the stomach signal crossed synapses şarkı sözleri

Nail me to the swastika cause the cross ain't costing enough Rupture symbols, taste of hate at least it ain't lost in the cuff You ain't Boston enough To toss marathons bombs in the ruff Gone, the wrong interrupts and hanging puppets by the strings Tugging hearts, here's the rub My marionette's still steel wool eyes Rise until the water level gets lost in your tub Blurred words tossing the drugs Over shoulders like bags of dirt, soiled genes, and a litter of monsters and cubs Might hibernate, when your fate decided it's time to mosh in the club Often I must Change frames, maintain the air of posh inert trust Unearth frost in her dust Stay floating, maybe rot inner lust Like the holes in my best friends teeth Have a bag of sweets, treats, feature feats Evel Knievel wouldn't want for the rush So put them spikes down and bleed Here's the need that seeps in your thoughts and your blood Illustrious dreams where the steam causes your top to erupt Your market shares bubbles bound to pop and pocket your rust It's a locket bottle rocket gold record capsule Perhaps you'll, see it's sealed lost to her touch Opposite of crop circle dust A game, proper full cups Of dice, where the prophet woke up To nod and wander propelled upon purple rugs And note the strongest of smells Pavlovian bells make him long for the sun Sear bacon, France is, certain you're wrong when it comes To making ponderous love Ridiculous I'm wrong with this Shub, So shut the f*ck up No, I will not Keep my mouth shut Cinch and cut the riot struts put down the rock and sling Sisyphus and giants touch corruption on a string Violins erupt and sing they're crying for the sin Of broken brains and hearts and shame A puppet carving grins An etching of a broken poem Goliath walked on pins Needles, shards of glass, bloodied grass Cast the bones and beg the past Compromising strategies which vandalize the wind Signal crossed synapses, stroke of genius now collapses Lost the random access, memorized a broken wing A tires spoke and spring We've spoke of this before while going crazy on a binge But the history was purged as we journeyed towards the fringe The fabric of our space and time now laughs and patches all our rhymes With codes and brittle subtle signs Erode the pattern of our morning, how do we begin? Emergent dialectic, question liquid logic Linguistics looking for an exit The conversation was a head trip and it left him with the spins It left him with the spins It left him with the
Sanatçı: Ish the Stomach
Türü: Belirtilmemiş
Ajans/Yapımcı: Belirtilmemiş
Şarkı Süresi: 2:31
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