Lyrics: Rory Allen Philip Ferreira
Music: Rory Allen Philip Ferreira
For more than 25 years, I've remained awake
Quarter past the 8, stand chest high in any lake
An avid collector of remains, that's burial
Exceptionally paid and curious
The nerve it take, the urge to make a game that's furious
Poems that constellate, I'm concentrated
Stacked in high piles and a desktop computer
And our conversation was frequently punctuated by excerpts of music
You ask if there's a method to my madness and I reply, do you want me to lose it?
I could take it to the graveyard by dissecting it
Toothless
Toothless
Toothless
Toothless
Gentle inquiries, special sentencing, extra questioning
Played the vegetables, summer squash, bummer thoughts
Guess I'll start exercising, I mean accessorizing
Next to the next in line, perpetually
Pep talks with Pimp C in dreams
Lent lint, loose leaf cream
Yamships, hemp and a handful of seeds
Spamming Ctrl+V, no goalie, no roadies
Yes, pain comes in dreams
Yes, pain comes in dreams
Yes, pain comes in dreams
Yes, pain comes in dreams
This right here we call a magic moment
My only defense against fate, is color