Luyện nghe bài hát The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' like
workin' their little halos to the bone combing them
my figure eight
lifeline defined
the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined day
one exquisite fitted crisis an octagon of red
to the ceiling my bed
it's not a conversation piece, like public
more of a clue
so I wake up to the rains I'll be one step ahead of you
I slide Kodakrome(?)
wrote a poem for planet
tracked their mileage from the sun in an
it, stamped it
got eight thank in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
the earth would thank me later with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm a bum)
zip that waterfall your skeleton
tell it to
loyalties, the shovel in the
dig it, I my lip kissing the winter
nursed the in the sun
strung a hammock between spring and where the turn to blood
might of
sip a little, litter it, it
without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower by the bucket
might of, tugboat for the above those ashes
without hot air balloons floatin' their passenger baskets
and I'm you
to let a lacerate a caption
out massive
apolster plastic glasses with patches
i-dentify all saints linked around the warmth
and for a second taste of when removing that crown of thorns
?????,???,???, hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle masochist
the blame on ??? ???
my fire escape overlooks ghost town 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 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 upon

and if little wing is broken
I'll see the poacher in
I can't afford ????? in a cell
my carousel mimics the interests of a thousand spickets
and a of graziers raised to justify the grimace
(and yes I the treaty)
I prescribe the plus the premises
my pin cushion, my limbs pushin' the needle
evils, idle, peddle the greeting
where the feed the cycles
stop, watch the board the little engine that could not
ghost in a
and it in my lap
passin', postin' the bail but the guard has misplaced the key (that's
wonderful)
I lead a flee to blaze songs directly into the village
power supply the bridge between the magnet and my eye
now how many cadavers a mad man?
and how many crooked 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 pointed stick, incite your riot
I'll your worth in a bottle at profit, explain my bias
atomic box cult, downward rapidly
cast to with hate mail, forged Christ's autograph
laughed itself, drastic
my lip
skin and bones,
bingin' on baits
mummified well inside a muddy New minute
was it
your my smoke rings have cocooned prior to fading?
well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have that

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

man, if it only that simple
I'd add a frame to my core
I'd board myself inside my room to trace the wilting
one petal to the rug, she loves me not
town crier lugging a boom box with plugs
and a red radio
to irony like twenty burning igloos with a sailors knot
fiddler build sandcastles while high tide off azalea crops
in the icicle I portray, cats get antsy
and ask if every light is dark do I continue dancing?'

why if light is dark do I continue dancing?

why if every light is dark do I continue

why if every light is dark do I continue
well if it ain't finally a question that's worth

I boogie for the
for the purity, the
for my childhood
for the comic book in my
the intentions
the clarity, passion,
cool summer nights
for the mark emerging across the selling me stog's at half price
for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating
my girl, my
for the fact my window opens towards a wall
for the three legged dog I saw on a leash
for the homeless man who walks my block in rainstorms with bags on
his
see I throw away the over one shoulder
and walk across glass
through every wicked world to kiss morning
not for
you'll drown in a pool of your crooked
whispering 'maybe Aesop Rock was on to

maybe, no