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lirik lagu themselves - john brown's vaporizer

[doseone]
sure pal…i’ll sell you your scalp back
for every something to draw with you ever owned and…nahh
uncle, give me a blackened lung and clavicle…
or i could wriggle my zero non emphatical…
strap you to a mountain side and hurl redwoods at your rotten hide
under here while boughs, bird’s nests and tree limbs fly…
you simply…drip down the rock face…pureed head case…
close as teensy-weensy crumbs of a whole
fall upon the forest’s plush green canopy…
i, forgive me…like rain…happy now…no brain…err
and wrongful treatments what i’ll preserve you in…mummification..
the uncouth barbarian takes it in the…huhuhuh…
it’s what he deserves. under gl-ss fine grain crushed herb…
reckon i could make a mint charging a healthy cover for a glimpse
of your freakish clump of quadriplegic gusto…
something done swung low…but your going home in a crucible…jerk

call it a meltdown…it’s really good clean smart…
soul and body of john brown sings in me…
no…you start…

no…i insist…you start…as you were…
watch…far end of the cantilever’s sparkling thermometer burst…sparkling…
thin air folds the crumpled to stationary…huh….
and unsuspecting solid blocks of refuse to rock
apparently pour with apologetic and “can i please go see the nurse?”
right before my eyes…”i don’t feel so good…”
whimper snivel bounces off bell tower stone for lastly gongs and chimes
in what’s clockwork…sullen hunchback
pressure rings out to trail blood on lobes…abandonment’s all about your…
impregnable and hit the lights yaknowwhati’msayin’ jive turkey
hunting season’s open…so i hum “we are the world”
polishing a 12-gauge conversion ratio…pausing
now and again to practice you foul calls and set the sight
dinner’s waiting…get a move on
my time you won’t not be extremely careful with that ink pen…or
bust stuffing waltzes in smug…extending a metaphor
as i hang this inexpensively framed license to practice taxidermy on the wall you…tear…”he’s certified…” for real…
no crocodile…no tough sh-ll…dull blades, less formaldehyde
to finish ‘er up…some grooming here, a gl-ss eye there…
needle thread…whooahla! nothing’s prolonged…you make the room
subtly off-setting the bearskin rug and lusciously upholstered ottoman…
hardcore…far from…treasure of the trove

boy…you’d better snuggle up in a p-ssive voice…or…
carry on and leave me no choice…”who’s the vaporizer?”

it’s the boy in me that binds a worldly gutted man’s angst to change
celebratory delta paints sh-t-eating grins
on what you and mirrors think my face looks like…
visuals expecting this alone despite
a nothing dissimilar has prepared its most stable student
with number 2 pencils and a sick sense of humor. prude lent
me a whopping six years of fun in the sun…i see it all…you blink…
to be blinded and amused, cheering, clapping, palms vermilion…
to raw-soar…never feeling a note…
i could cry for you all but empathy…wept smudges what’s wrote
to lock, stock and barrel surroundings with quotes
coffee through corners of loose leaf…my later on
environmental processing unit..and you say cheese
in a torrid three-piece tunic…
so i can bank their drift and fill a page to it…
golly, i’ll lead ’em all second hand virgins out of the grain shortage
with a no longer lit roach and thimble full of prestigious…or
i may find your devoted half-mast and shift thick skin to brash
and show you sad’s six-hundredth and something shade…
swearing solemnly you’ll see no parts of unscathed…
do though, consider this frame of mmm..molestation
more than a suspect ident-ty roast…
since it’s really your last hippity hiphoppin’ hope
and open gets no wider as i provide for your cope…
with twice the substance and conversely quadruple the texturizer
who’s the…prey tell…who’s the vaporizer?

- lirik lagu themselves

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