Luyện nghe bài hát The Tugboat Complex

Oh my God
They've got angels like Helots
workin' their halos to the bone combing them deserts
my figure knotted
defined traffic
the way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined day
one fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
to the above my bed
it's not a conversation piece, like spectacles
more of a clue
so when I wake up to the rains be one step ahead of you
I like Kodakrome(?)
a poem for every planet
tracked their from the sun in an envelope
it, stamped 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 that waterfall your skeleton
tell it to
loyalties, the in the soil
dig it, I split my lip kissing the
nursed the in the sun
strung a hammock between spring and the willows turn to blood
might of
sip a little, it, love it
big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
might of, for the boxcutter above those ashes
without hot air balloons their four passenger baskets
and I'm you
to let a captive lacerate a
splash out
apolster plastic glasses famine patches
all saints linked around the fountain's warmth
and for a taste of pain when removing that crown of thorns
?????,???,???, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle
stamp the on ??? ???
my fire escape overlooks ghost town place
artists out passes
then fast themselves to the face
you're me

if I had a hammer, I'd build a on stilts
so my feet would stay dry when God's wine 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 in hell
I can't afford another ????? in a
my mimics the interests of a thousand leaking spickets
and a colony of graziers raised to justify the
(and yes I the treaty)
I prescribe the remedy the premises
my pin cushion, my limbs pushin' the needle
evils, idle, peddle past the
where the sleepers feed the
stop, watch the eagles board the little engine 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 exact songs into the village
supply burning the bridge between the magnet and my eye
now how many satisfy a mad man?
and how many samaritans turn plesantville to bad land?
I can count my own nickels with you laughing
about you'll turn my poor ass ebony and navy with lashings
(well, right)
grip your pointed stick, incite riot
I'll sell your worth in a at profit, explain my bias
atomic box cult, downward rapidly
cast to hell with hate mail, forged Christ's
itself, drastic catastrophe
my lip
skin and bones,
on rancid baits
mummified well inside a New York minute
was it
your my smoke rings have cocooned prior to fading?
well, it wasn't conscious spite but it might have been

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

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

why if every light is dark do I dancing?

why if every light is do I continue dancing?

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

I boogie for the
for the purity, the
for my recollections
for the comic book in my
the intentions
the clarity, passion,
those cool summer
for the mark emerging the street selling me stog's at half price
for the mights, the maybes, the nauseating
my girl, my
for the fact my window opens a brick wall
for the legged dog I saw dragged 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 broken glass
through wicked world to kiss tomorrow's morning
not for
you'll drown in a pool of your morals
whispering Aesop Rock was on to something'

maybe, no