Luyện nghe bài hát The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' Helots
workin' little halos to the bone combing them deserts
my figure knotted
lifeline traffic
the way my end-less-ly defined every day
one exquisite fitted crisis rivets an of red
to the ceiling my bed
it's not a piece, like public spectacles
more of a clue
so when I up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
I like Kodakrome(?)
wrote a poem for planet
tracked mileage from the sun in an envelope
licked it, it
got thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
only the would thank me later with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm a bum)
zip waterfall around your skeleton
it to boil
loyalties, the shovel in the
dig it, I split my lip the winter
the blister in the sun
strung a hammock between spring and where the willows to blood
might of
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 with famine
i-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's
and for a second taste of when removing that crown of thorns
?????,???,???, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle
the blame on ??? ???
my fire escape overlooks town market place
artists out passes
then themselves to the target's face
you're me

if I had a hammer, I'd a city 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 I'll be hiding his drunken stupor lands upon earth

and if your little is broken
I'll see the in hell
I can't afford another ????? in a
my carousel mimics the interests of a 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 limbs the knitting needle
evils, idle, past the greeting
where the feed the cycles
stop, watch the eagles board the little engine could not
in a shell
and it in my lap
passin', postin' the bail but the guard has the key ring (that's
wonderful)
I lead a flee to blaze exact songs directly the village
power supply the bridge between the magnet and my eye
now how many cadavers satisfy a mad
and how many crooked samaritans turn plesantville to bad
I can count my own dusty nickels with you
about you'll turn my poor ass and navy with cane lashings
(well, right)
your pointed stick, incite your riot
I'll sell your worth in a bottle at profit, my bias
box cult, downward spiral rapidly
cast to hell with hate mail, Christ's autograph
itself, drastic catastrophe
my lip
skin and bones,
on rancid baits
mummified well inside a muddy New minute
was it
your remnants my smoke rings cocooned prior to fading?
well, it conscious spite but it might have been that

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

man, if it were only simple
I'd add a guilt frame to my
I'd board myself inside my room to trace the wilting
one petal to the rug, she loves me not
crier lugging a boom box with spirit plugs
and a red flyer
tied to irony like burning igloos with a sailors knot
crabs build sandcastles while high tide off azalea crops
in the icicle field I portray, cats get
and ask 'why if every light is dark do I continue

why if every light is do I continue dancing?

why if every is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every is dark do I continue dancing?
well if it ain't finally a question worth answering

I boogie for the
for the purity, the
for my childhood
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 pitfall
my girl, my
for the fact my window towards a brick wall
for the legged dog I saw dragged on a leash
for the man who walks my block in rainstorms with plastic bags on
his
see I throw away the over one shoulder
and across broken glass
through every wicked world to tomorrow's morning
not for
you'll drown in a pool of crooked morals
'maybe Aesop Rock was on to something'

maybe, no