1+1=13

Scum of the earthly, I plug into that one plus one equals 13
Summer of love, sleep under a murder of crows
They sorta circle his lawn, pokin' at serpents and skulls
Workin' a curious beak, he's seekin'
Mercy on his virtuous bones
We see this ain't the type of jury that votes
I know you tryin' to find a little bit of math in your misfortune
Miss him with the supernatural, there has to be some order
There has to be some more to
Hoarding rabbits feet and wishbones
Horseshoes over door-frames, Feng Shui, fishbowls
Plant life dies when I bop through the glade
Docs lose hope, popes burst into flames, I'm the worst
Crashed out crown made of black clouds
Troll-face roll snake eyes from a glass house
Passionately waiting in a sea of cursed funk
I'm a vacationing Brady with a tiki, surf's up

If anybody out there, show me a sign
Leaders of the free world blowin' on dice
We load our bowls, we close our eyes

My bed got two wrong sides and a yawning
Dreamcatcher full of me falling, it's haunting
No causality, back the bad juju
It's act of irrationality, brash and a tad cuckoo at last
A little superstition stupify the hoard
Treating reasonable norms like warriors to unhorse
There is no amount of tourmalated quartz
That would counter the disturbance in the force, seeing doors
Flip a quarter ten times, count ten times tails
The four leaves fail, live from the slime trail
Where luck is a white whale, love is a work of fiction
Amity is a service sold outside his jurisdiction
Sure, his mercy is a myth in all the worlds there ever were
It send a curious insurgent to an early sepulcher
And that sucks, foxhole crashed
My two lucky socks don't match
My Hanzo's scratched

If anybody out there, show me a sign
Leaders of the free world blowin' on dice
We load our bowls, we close our eyes

Ayy, when you wish upon a barn star
Deliver us from "nyuck, nyuck" and "hardy-har-har"
Deliver shady Lady Luck from the dark arts
She turn a basic straight shooter to a card shark, quick
I'm writing from the plight of the godless
Where pagans swap piety for shinier objects
And pretend to be a perfect pile of science and logic
Though it hasn't got us any less divided and conquered, look
The rock shock still knock on wood
No shame, still aim for the top of the food... chain
My lucky sevens only ever make it up to six
Every three tries, Satan kind of wins
Untied shoes alive on a wild goose
The winner is unrelenting, the kindling is fireproof
Got a face for radio, break a mirror every morn'
Turn seven years into seven more, it's yours

If anybody out there, show me a sign
Leaders of the free world blowin' on dice
We load our bowls, we close our eyes



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Fec, Ian Bavitz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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