Last smile cut off, rap phile one off
Rollin’ in the melancholic black bile runoff
Acting goofy when I’m quite helpless…
Life’s a movie that I have to watch - Mike Nelson
Time’s melting, make music til the money comes
Gotta lotta lo-fi beats, but never studied once
Bachelor’s still on the wall - I hope that shit excuses
Making bitter music stead of interviewin’, Dith a stupid
Nighttime custodian, mind’s eye got hindsight and odium
Fine lines like fly’n kites I’ll hide like chelonians
Seeming mean, pacin’ floors I’m sweeping clean
Making fours under my breath to reinforce the secret dreams
Gorgeous with no aesthetic, gormless but copacetic
Homeless a born ascetic, formless and so pathetic
But the marks up on my arms keep me swinging
Yeah, the marks up on my arms keep me…
Why you always act so quiet, son?
And why you always staring into space and gotta bite your tongue?
It’s to keep you guys from getting not a little hot with spittle
Noncommital, I keep the rhyme journal in jots and tittles, often brittle
And they don’t know my work or else they’d mock me for it
At my lunch I hit the night air and I walk the forest
Or else the parking lot, starting off the prickly brink
Light pollution painting all the overcast a sickly pink
Cut the sympathy - I said I’ll be fine, I meant it
Just rewrite these lines to up the equine percentage
Hold your Horses and romance the past, prance and laugh
Look Ma, now I’m a pony in a fancy hat.
Fancy that.
...
The marks up on my arms keep me swinging.
The marks up on my arms keep me... swinging.