Luyện nghe bài hát The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' Helots
their little halos to the bone combing them deserts
my figure knotted
lifeline defined
the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined day
one fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
to the ceiling my bed
it's not a piece, like public spectacles
unleashed of a clue
so when I up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
I slide Kodakrome(?)
wrote a poem for every
tracked their mileage from the sun in an
it, stamped it
got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means one left
only the earth would thank me with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm a bum)
zip that around your skeleton
it to boil
loyalties, the in the soil
dig it, I split my lip kissing the
the blister in the sun
strung a hammock between and where the willows turn to blood
of worked
sip a little, litter it, it
without big beetles trying to sell him seeds by the bucket
of, tugboat for the boxcutter above those ashes
without hot air balloons floatin' their passenger baskets
and I'm you
to let a lacerate a caption
splash out
apolster plastic glasses famine patches
i-dentify all saints around the fountain's warmth
and for a second of pain when removing that crown of thorns
?????,???,???, born hostile, huddled in subtle masochist
stamp the on ??? ???
my fire escape overlooks town market place
artists bought out
then fast themselves to the target's
killin' me

if I had a hammer, I'd a city on stilts
so my feet would stay dry God's wine glass tilts

if I had a shovel, I'd dig a in the dirt
and I'll be hiding when his drunken stupor lands earth

and if little wing is broken
I'll see the poacher in
I can't afford ????? in a cell
my carousel mimics the of a thousand leaking spickets
and a colony of raised to justify the grimace
(and yes I the treaty)
I prescribe the remedy the premises
my pin cushion, my pushin' the knitting needle
evils, idle, past the greeting
where the feed the cycles
stop, the eagles board the little engine that could not
ghost in a
and it in my lap
passin', postin' the but the guard has misplaced the key ring (that's
wonderful)
I lead a flee to blaze exact songs directly into the
supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye
now how many cadavers satisfy a mad
and how crooked samaritans turn plesantville to bad land?
I can count my own dusty with you laughing
about you'll turn my poor ass ebony and with cane lashings
(well, right)
grip your pointed stick, your riot
I'll sell worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias
atomic box cult, spiral rapidly
cast to with hate mail, forged Christ's autograph
laughed itself, drastic
my lip
skin and bones,
bingin' on rancid
mummified well a muddy New York minute
was it
your remnants my smoke rings cocooned prior to fading?
well, it wasn't conscious but it might have been that

I am not friend anymore
my arrow dissertation(?)
when narrow bed sleepers the basement
and I am not your anymore
come the dawning of your pity blend that whispers in the wind

man, if it were only that
I'd add a frame to my core
I'd board myself inside my room to trace the contour
one falls to the rug, she loves me not
town crier lugging a boom box with plugs
and a red flyer
tied to irony like burning igloos with a sailors knot
fiddler crabs build sandcastles while high tide off azalea
in the icicle field I portray, get antsy
and ask 'why if every light is do I continue dancing?'

why if every light is do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue

why if light is dark do I continue dancing?
if it ain't finally a question that's worth answering

I for the raindrops
for the purity, the
for my recollections
for the comic book in my
the mocked
the clarity, passion,
cool summer nights
for the mark emerging across the street selling me stog's at price
for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating
my girl, my
for the fact my opens towards a brick wall
for the three dog I saw dragged on a leash
for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic on
his
see I throw away the tenders one shoulder
and across broken glass
through every wicked world to kiss morning
not for
you'll drown in a pool of crooked morals
whispering Aesop Rock was on to something'

maybe, no