歌词
Good Mourning
I proclaim
As I waltz into the funeral
Home alone, writing poems
Fitting in boxes most consumable
Most impressionable
A cardboard box that's filled to the brim
With my proclivities
The cardboard is wet
I'm shouting out loud while i'm eating Mcvitie's
Shit
Dropping crumb
Green nugs and chum
From a fresh bucket of goof gas
Cap like a hi hat
Cop like a bear trap
Would not hit that
Brick that
I'm sipping on wine
While I pick away at my sins
Palms read red redemptive
Contemplative
That's a really hard word to say
Car washed with my bong water
Special order
You know where to find me
Under some gutter
By the café
In the line for the atm
Or was that the buffet?
You know where to find me
In the space in between
The thin black strip
At home, in my philosophical corner
Carving sevens into the carpet
But never on purpose I'm
Wobbling and bumbling 'til I'm
Completely shirtless I'm
Losing my mind as I'm
Most inclined I'm
Letting my springs unwind
Trying to catch the crumbling time
I'm looking around the room, waving my arms like
My blood is made of wine and my body made of bread
I'm trying to make more sense of the senseless in my head
The densest apprentice of self reflection is dead
I'll say it again shall I?
My blood is made of wine and my body made of bread
I'm trying to make more sense of the senseless in my head
The densest apprentice of self reflection is dead
My blood is made of wine and my body's made of bread
I'm trying to make more sense of the senseless in my head
The densest apprentice of self reflection is dead