Caveman

Sorry, seat's taken
I prefer to work a room when it's below grade and vacant
Got used to friends and relatives reserving reservations
Now it's time to migrate and I'm an anchor on the pavement
Science says it's time to smile more
But meanwhile I feel inspired from behind a door
Solitaire boy wonder turned man caveman
Rain man when it thunders
Undercover son, when I look up I see the plumbing, shit
Throw my fist up to take a bump from the mothership
Spinnin' thread solo in the cabin
Captain castaway, rep the cellar to the attic
Not allergic to the air, just an aversion to the headlines
Rather pass the time reading smart words from dead guys
Call off the search, report from the underground
I'll send a Murder Falcon with my last known whereabouts

Walls close in
Push me right toward the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I felt the battery jump
Nowhere but up

Walls close in
Pull me down from the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I've used the battery up
Nowhere to jump

My bones are buried in the basement
Very heady revelry, the penalty was basic
I came to find the cavemen now I'm hiding in their spaceship
Stone-faced stowaway, vertebrae is makeshift
Mayday. Shit. Drop the rope
Had it up to heresy, here is why I don't believe in x for xylophone
Five on the low, I can strike the prose
Y-O, Y-O, watch me climb into a meta verse of megaphones
Frantically Cloned E dot terrestrials in a row
Talking skeletone, camouflaged in the styrofoam
One by whoa, one hundred Old Yeller souls sniffing through the cellar mold
Kaleidoscope coping mechanism
Interloping deities constructive with their criticisms
I told 'em never, ever leave without
That shit inside they only dream about

Walls close in
Push me right toward the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I felt the battery jump
Nowhere but up

Walls close in
Pull me down from the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I've used the battery up
Nowhere to jump

Kinda like lookin' like a ninja
Quiet type: writer by a fire and a window
Screwdriver, hi-polymer, dish soap
Windex, alcohol, cotton swab, Nintendo
Yo, time to get the work done
Took a whole trip around the sun to wrap the third one
But slow motion's still progress
When you stay on the same course toward your conquest
Suburban hermit, now my Silver Age version
Quick to give a middle finger signal to the urgent
But don't mistake the curses
Prefer to work inside a cage than join the circus
Return to high speed chases in your Sunday best
The type of joy ride I would call resisting a rest
The hunter's got a taste for hide, a mix of fluoride and flesh
So I'ma bide my time until you're properly dressed

Walls close in
Push me right toward the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I felt the battery jump
Nowhere but up

Walls close in
Pull me down from the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I've used the battery up
Nowhere to jump

Ghost playwright in a play fight
Dead on arrival, vile twilight parasite
Silhouetted eyes, tracking downwind satellite
Sugar-coated nighttime meteor-ites
Negotiate, media rights over some Pedialyte
Until the read out on the Lite Brite is I'm leading the fight
Medieval thievery strikes and I'm the first to say... Yikes
Comedians will spoil the heist
Slowpoke plodding through a pipeline purposely
I know folk nervous 'bout the plot line versus me
Bed head hemorrhage, dead man's chest one step for my leverage
Empty beverage, every sector
Hectic with a room of skeptics lecturing the jester
The strain was always gonna getcha
Backstage at a game of gotcha
Glad-handing conjecture

Walls close in
Push me right toward the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I felt the battery jump
Nowhere but up

Walls close in
Pull me down from the ceiling
It's more than a feeling
I've used the battery up
Nowhere to jump