Aesop Rock - Saturn Missiles lyrics

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Aesop Rock - Saturn Missiles lyrics

If you step on the lawn I keep the foot Peep, in the pot go 6 degrees of cooked geese Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas Over 10 meat hooks with a blister each I'm all pincher, fever-y hoodie on, hoodie off Sweat thru his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls Never met a quiet storm that didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns that go click click clack In territorial syntax Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back Pinball wiz in a thimble of sims I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged Kiss me I'm dead, nursing a mystery Dayquil Led Zep staring daggers down page mill How pray tell do he sit pretty when the ol' 1 2 unglue in a tizzy Please hold for the don't play dull boy Click, I am not a page or a pull toy Came in the door and the floor is lava k**joy if your core more Norman Rockwell Born home sick for an invisible address Bat sh**, bumble and bat around catnip One black heart Katamari ma**ive Packed in a fat category 5 rat nest Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy Hate you, hate you more, no I hate you infinity And Pangaea break into smithereens Interlude prest-o change-o If it move to quick oh whey oh Right brain go white train Ramo Mustache any old Money, "no!" Merrily merrily merrily merrily In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy Frog men schooled by the god Ed Emberly Pull dog sleds and exhume Dead Kennedys Bet, moth into kerosene awful A caution to straw men lost on vaudeville A-morally mixing business with 144 dixie whistlers Lawn chair, strong man twisted whiskers NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ring-ers Are you privy to the misadventures It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street With a lethally modified piccolo pete There is admittedly an incredible mystique To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep 48 strings of 12 That ring ring ring, whiz bang, jingle bells And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy, cla**ic Fire in the hole backdrafting Fold wild life out of the wolf pack wrapping Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine TNT plunger in all caps ACME Blast off half the whole damn mapscreen No sling no spear I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears Who been stung by an un-linked pinky swear During his what-in-the-f**-was-I-thinking years Maybe an awkward phase Like his acne and soph*more fade Played, calling all out-of-work action figures It was d**h by saturn missiles.