Luyện nghe bài hát The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' Helots
workin' their little to the bone combing them deserts
my figure eight
defined traffic
the way my schoolin' defined every day
one fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
to the above my bed
it's not a conversation piece, public spectacles
more of a clue
so when I up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
I like Kodakrome(?)
a poem for every planet
tracked their mileage the sun in an envelope
it, stamped it
got eight thank in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
only the earth would me later with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm a bum)
zip waterfall around your skeleton
tell it to
loyalties, the shovel in the
dig it, I split my lip kissing the
the blister in the sun
strung a hammock spring and where the willows turn to blood
of worked
sip a little, litter it, it
without big trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
might of, tugboat for the boxcutter above ashes
without hot air balloons their four passenger baskets
and I'm you
to let a captive lacerate a
splash out
apolster plastic with famine patches
i-dentify all saints linked around the warmth
and for a second taste of pain removing that crown of thorns
?????,???,???, born hostile, huddled in subtle masochist
stamp the on ??? ???
my fire escape ghost town market place
artists out passes
then fast themselves to the face
killin' me

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

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

and if your little wing is
I'll see the in hell
I can't afford another ????? in a
my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand spickets
and a colony of graziers raised to justify the
(and yes I the treaty)
I prescribe the plus the premises
my pin cushion, my limbs pushin' the knitting
evils, idle, past the greeting
where the sleepers feed the
stop, watch the eagles board the engine that could not
ghost in a
and it in my lap
passin', postin' the bail but the guard has the key ring (that's
wonderful)
I lead a flee to exact songs directly into the village
power supply burning the between the magnet and my eye
now how many satisfy a mad man?
and how many crooked turn plesantville to bad land?
I can count my own nickels with you laughing
about you'll turn my poor ass ebony and navy cane lashings
(well, right)
grip your pointed stick, your riot
I'll your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias
box cult, downward spiral rapidly
cast to hell with hate mail, forged Christ's
itself, drastic catastrophe
my lip
skin and bones,
bingin' on baits
well inside a muddy New York minute
was it
your my smoke rings have cocooned prior to fading?
well, it wasn't spite but it might have been that

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

man, if it were only that
I'd add a guilt to my core
I'd board inside my room to trace the wilting contour
one petal falls to the rug, she me not
town lugging a boom box with spirit plugs
and a red flyer
to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot
fiddler crabs build sandcastles high tide off azalea crops
in the icicle field I portray, cats get
and ask 'why if every light is dark do I dancing?'

why if every light is dark do I dancing?

why if every light is dark do I dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue
well if it finally a question that's worth answering

I for the raindrops
for the purity, the
for my childhood
for the comic book in my
the intentions
the clarity, passion,
those cool summer
for the mark emerging across the street me stog's at half 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 in rainstorms with plastic bags on
his
see I throw away the over one shoulder
and walk broken glass
through every wicked world to kiss tomorrow's
not for
you'll drown in a pool of your crooked
whispering 'maybe Rock was on to something'

maybe, no