flash that buttery gold, jittery zeitgeist
|
wither by the watering hole, border patrol
|
what are we to heart huckabee art fuckery suddenly?
|
not enough young in his lung for the waterwing
|
colorfully vulgar poacher outta mulch
|
like "i'm 'a pull the pulse out a soldier and bolt"
|
fine
|
sign of the time we elapse
|
when a primate climb up a spine and attach
|
eye for an eye by the bog like swamps and vines
|
they get a rise out of frogs and flies
|
so when a dog-fight's hog-tied prize sorta costs a life
|
their mouths water on a fork and knife
|
and the allure isn't right, no score on a war torn beach
|
where the cash cow's actually beef
|
blood turns wine when it leak for police
|
like "that's not a riot it's a feast, let's eat!"
|
|
CHORUS:
|
and i will remember your name and face
|
on the day you are judged by the funhouse cast
|
and i will rejoice in your fall from grace
|
with a cane through the sky like "none shall pass"
|
|
high,
|
aah, fly me up high! x2
|
none shall pass
|
aah, fly me up high! x2
|
none shall pass
|
|
if you never had a day a snow cone couldn't fix
|
you wouldn't relate to the rogue vocoder blitz
|
how he spoke through a no-doz motor on the fritz
|
cause he wouldn't play roll over fetch like a bitch
|
and express no regrets, though he isn't worth a homeowner's piss
|
to the jokers who pose by the glitz.
|
fine
|
sign of the swine in the swarm
|
when a king is a whore who comply and conform
|
miles outside of the eye of the storm
|
with a siphon to lure out a prize and award
|
while avoiding the vile and bazaar that is violence and war
|
true blue triumph is more
|
like wait, let it snake up outta the centerfold
|
let it break the walls of jericho
|
ready? go! sat where the old cardboard city folk
|
swap tales with heads like every other penny throw
|
|
Chorus
|
|
"you tried to trick me
|
you've gotta lot of nerve"
|
"i'm not trying to trick you
|
i'm -trust me- i'm -trust me- i'm trying to help"
|
|
okay, woke to a grocery list
|
goes like this: duty and death
|
anyone object come stand in the way
|
you could be my little snake river canyon today
|
and i ran with a chain of commands
|
and a jet pack strap where the back-stab lands if it can
|
fine
|
sign of the vibe in the crowd
|
when i cut her belly open to find what climb out
|
what a bit of gusto he muster up
|
to make a dark horse rush like enough is enough
|
it musta struck a nerve so they huff and puff
|
'til all the king's men fluster and clusterfuck
|
and it's a beautiful thing
|
to my people who keep an impressive wingspan
|
even when the cubicle shrink
|
you gotta pull up the intruder by the root of the weed
|
NY chew thru the machine
|
|
Chorus
|
|
"i'm trying to help"
|
|
-----------------
|
None Shall Pass
|
| Aesop Rock |
