Hook.
|
|
Line.
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Shop jock.
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Crackle.
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This is paid-for advertisement. (Hook... Line...) Free food for all. (Sinker.)
|
|
It's a tangible death and I can almost handle it.
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When it cancels my breath hold your hand over my candle then rest.
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There's no pain in this fist's release.
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I put my elbows on the window frame, glass pressed against my cheeks.
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Everything I see is mine.
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I never look back--Couldn't ask the same of those I leave behind.
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They're air bubbles rushing toward the water's surface.
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A clumsy stage hand making a grand exit...caught in the curtains.
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A person should have pulled this rope long ago.
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Before the water hole froze over I saw the snow.
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The best cue for rescue is a couple yanks.
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Pressed my luck, held my breath enough, but then my stomach sank.
|
Should have never been walking the plank with cement shoes
|
without an oxygen tank or wet suit.
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Destitute conditions leave fishermen victims of circumstance.
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But you don't need a hook for the worms to dance.
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Hook.
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Line.
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Sinker.
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Crumbs.. Hook.
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Line.
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Snap-snap... Crackle... (All right)
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|
Off to the bathroom to sniff another line.
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There's a big party going on and you're not invited.
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Now I'm just howling at the moon, sippin' its shine.
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There's a huge rock hurling through space, won't you help me light it?
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I'm Playing jump rope with my veins tonight.
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Budget done low; but I paid the price.
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The DJ saved my life.
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Nothing could cut into my fun, but the razor might.
|
|
This song is brought to you courtesy of medicine prescriptions,
|
Dead-again Christians,
|
1968,
|
And B-Boys on acid...
|
And of course, my utter and absolute obligation to never... do anything bad.
|
Ever.
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|
-----------------
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Product Placement
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| Sage Francis |
