1. |
Like You
02:44
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Passing my time passing out in a haze
Same shit bleeds through every day
Keeping that grind an inch away from my face
Endless vacation in a maze
My God! I need
Someone to tell me what to do
This sucks!
They don’t make ‘em any more like you
Line connecting dot always know, never show
Painted, curved eyebrow of a crow
My God! I need
Someone to tell me what to do
This sucks!
They don’t make ‘em any more like you
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2. |
Lay Down Your Arms
02:37
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And open up your arms
It’s easy nuff to give into harm’s pain so
Lay down your arms
Disengage your ears
To mouths that wind you up
Never wanted to be one to judge I just
Can’t seem to keep it up
Shoot through me
All God speak
Till there’s nothing there left to love!
Weigh down your socks
With every passing thought
The whole world seems to swallow it’s young if we
Keep this shit up
Shoot this side
Shoot till you’re right!
Shoot till there’s no sides at all!
Holding out for a better day
Holding out for a better day
Holding out for a better day to come on along
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3. |
Cinnamon Sugar Skulls
03:58
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There’s a light on
It’s a light that is dimming
Countin’ sheep on
Till the night wheels spinning halt
No one else to take fault
There’s a light on
And the lights always fading
Since night one
There’s no use in winning the fall
So why do I feel it at all?
Cinnamon sugar skulls
Lined up across the wall
Living out words like you always said
She’s a light on
And the light turns to flicker
Keep her eyes on
And she don’t know which day or night or month is or years
to the wicker who I am who she was and
Nothing to figure out
Just cinnamon sugar skulls
Wrapped up in all you were
Laughing at things that made you lose your head
Living out ways as to live for dead, dead, dead, dead
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4. |
Paper Grasshopper
03:59
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Fold, Step, Leap. Nothing keeps
You stare at blank
Walls you wish could bend like paper
Shape your mind before it tapers off
You circle like a moth
Now you’re cutting from the same old cloth
To throw it all away
Lilt, Chirp, Stir. Seek your mirth
Boundless from this
Earth you leap to coax the moon to
Hell with all the bets on someday soon
You piss out toward the flock
Now you’re dressing like the things you mocked
At gunpoint from your cock
To be the same
Cause Autumn’s on her way
And you know that you can’t stay
Around much longer
So get where you’re going to
Write, Draw, Bleed. All your blood
Hell don’t play for fun
Knee myself to seem a wise guy
There’s no pay for sights for sore eyes
Lilt, Chirp, Stir. Seek your mirth
Boundless from this
Earth you leap to coax the moon to
Hell with all the bets on someday soon
You circle like a moth
Now you’re cutting from the same old cloth
Like speaking only goth
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5. |
Mr. Malaprop
02:51
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Baby don’t mind me, I’m just leaving you this message
You prolly didn’t see my texts or cards left on the dresser
You know I didn’t mean what I said ‘bout your depression
But Kid Cudi often shows that people get a misimpression
Poor ‘ol Mister Malapropist
Red in Linen, Missed the Marxist
I know I overbound all the steps when we meet
I myself get tired making out with my feet
But if you stick with me, baby we could make it cheddar
I’ll paw before I speak and I will write it out in letters
Poor ol Mr. Malapropist
Thinks in strings and speaks in knots of turn
The words that I’m looking for are
Found on a milk carton I dropped
Much to my charred grin I give up!
On playing safe with tongues cause
Blood flies when you’re having fun!
Poor old Mr. Malapropist
Read in Lenin, Missed the Marxist
Poor ol’ Mr. Malaprop
Thinks in strings and speaks in knots
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