A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Aesop Rock

"Killjoy"

[Verse 1: Rob Sonic]
Give me that, ahhhh
Give me that Turtle Neck shirt, a Tin Pan Apple, a German Shepherd
A wristband stance, and a lurching Red Bird, and more Braves than the Turner network
Alive with a smile and a crazy cadence that flips out if it's face is shaven
And Prince had all the names and places on the tops of the forties by the Casey Kasem
No such luck in the silent scream, hope we die with the needle in the eye at least
Like Jimmy Hart and the Iron Sheik doing the roll bounce, James and the Giant Peach
Whole house like yeah he yells at us, gets fall down drunk but we help him up
Does this thing where he points at his pelvic thrust, and he constantly speaks of Beelzebub
Probably needs to adjust the voices in his head but instead he kind of just enjoys when
They get upset and start pencil pointing at whoever f*cking left with the best of Poison
Boys being brought [what we] seven days, in the old world I'm told that the beds are made
Out of headstones, bones and electric tape, now let the bodies hit the floor for the Feng Shui

[Verse 2: Aesop Rock]
Cleverbots bounce out of boiling sea, and foil hats hack toys into Soylent Green
Fat boy back wrapping his heart in bacon, part jarhead, part avatar of Satan
All bargain basement, some get lost, some get six claws to crisscross the course
In a town potmarked with potholes and pack dogs, half-wits rock with the not so Pavlov
Ah break a player into polygons, it ain't fair it's a jobby job
Another pet rock death to the shipwreck sweat box, coronary bast*rd, last word neck chop
Knock, it was nosy neighbors in the safe house built with the bones of leaders
There were basic tarp over stolen speakers, somewhere to weed out toking weasels
Raised by Lycos, maybe an agent of darkness, still make art out of garbage
Sleep in the arms of a hearty cartharsis, Sergeant of marginal progress
March on cobwebs, [though] had a poker face appear more like he broke a vase
I'm okay no qualms, wait some qualms, too many paper mache front lawns

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