Bike (1)
why?:
edison, i've fixed my glasses like new!
dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well.
why?:
reaching to quiet the man made of metal and brick.
dose one:
sleeping in woman's clothes, naked walls filling my eyes.
why?:
kneading the knotted, cramped muscles; the head of a nut.
dose one:
holding my place in a necklace collection, whala!
why?:
scraping the hardened, dead mortar from under my nails.
dose one:
weeding out sounding like movies, why i'd rather read.
why?:
sparring the volunteer flower, the beautiful guest.
dose one:
greetings, my god given name is adam in love.
why?:
edison, i've fixed my glasses like new!
dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well.
dose one, why?:
de, sha, vu. cats, clipped, whiskers, x.
open empty
(backwards):
physics of a bicycle, isn't it remarkable?
and turns our friends and family into cold hard cash.
it was our idea first to put dead whales on the roadside,
i am fresh dirt, grab your hoe and rake and shake the earth.
i caught you looking like a barbed-wire fire escape.
i've been an ex-president since the day i was born.
what do you call a three-legged dog? lucky.
doesn't mean it's all valour and vagina.
just because i've got poet head and write all the time,
you bring tears to my ever-dry eyes.
chorus:
the dead dog, on the shoulder of 71,
here's where the flies come in.
this is where the flies come in.
why?:
the fat man's drenched hat crumpled in a shivering fist,
he's lost the whole house from around him.
every single shingle shattered into atoms.
only he remains, standing circumcised on torn earth,
where his living room once was stripped to his skin
with a wet hate in his right hand.
dose one:
umbrella inverted and undressed,
stuffed in the top of a trash can.
"right as rain" spokes reach,
grabbing coats and poking pocket books.
its dress is torn to one last spoke.
it pours a sliding sheet of rain over the side, over the side.
why?:
the cracked earth cow-skull dirt in a no-cloud blue sky capsule,
leaks out the ozone's bald spot along with your brand new closed curtains,
a dozen frozen roses and cozmo, the thumbed cat.
dose one, why?:
2 women walk up to a penny.
one says, "oh look a penny."
then the other one says, "oh, it's a lucky one."
then the one goes, "no it isn't."
and they both walk off.
edison, i've fixed my glasses like new!
dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well.
why?:
reaching to quiet the man made of metal and brick.
dose one:
sleeping in woman's clothes, naked walls filling my eyes.
why?:
kneading the knotted, cramped muscles; the head of a nut.
dose one:
holding my place in a necklace collection, whala!
why?:
scraping the hardened, dead mortar from under my nails.
dose one:
weeding out sounding like movies, why i'd rather read.
why?:
sparring the volunteer flower, the beautiful guest.
dose one:
greetings, my god given name is adam in love.
why?:
edison, i've fixed my glasses like new!
dose one:
wishing coins well, off into the bad sleep well.
dose one, why?:
de, sha, vu. cats, clipped, whiskers, x.
open empty
(backwards):
physics of a bicycle, isn't it remarkable?
and turns our friends and family into cold hard cash.
it was our idea first to put dead whales on the roadside,
i am fresh dirt, grab your hoe and rake and shake the earth.
i caught you looking like a barbed-wire fire escape.
i've been an ex-president since the day i was born.
what do you call a three-legged dog? lucky.
doesn't mean it's all valour and vagina.
just because i've got poet head and write all the time,
you bring tears to my ever-dry eyes.
chorus:
the dead dog, on the shoulder of 71,
here's where the flies come in.
this is where the flies come in.
why?:
the fat man's drenched hat crumpled in a shivering fist,
he's lost the whole house from around him.
every single shingle shattered into atoms.
only he remains, standing circumcised on torn earth,
where his living room once was stripped to his skin
with a wet hate in his right hand.
dose one:
umbrella inverted and undressed,
stuffed in the top of a trash can.
"right as rain" spokes reach,
grabbing coats and poking pocket books.
its dress is torn to one last spoke.
it pours a sliding sheet of rain over the side, over the side.
why?:
the cracked earth cow-skull dirt in a no-cloud blue sky capsule,
leaks out the ozone's bald spot along with your brand new closed curtains,
a dozen frozen roses and cozmo, the thumbed cat.
dose one, why?:
2 women walk up to a penny.
one says, "oh look a penny."
then the other one says, "oh, it's a lucky one."
then the one goes, "no it isn't."
and they both walk off.
Credits
Writer(s): Adam Drucker, Jonathan Avram Wolf, David Madson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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