Альбом Soul Coughing

I'm rolling...
I've gotta get a new balm
I've gotta get a tight tension on
I've got to slip it up before the rush gets gone
I've got to feel it with the hot mind on
I'm rolling
Hey Norman was it thrown with a broken arm?
Bottle it up, to keep it warm
I'm rolling
I know you got it but you got to go
I'm gonna get into the batter so the mix might glow
I hate to do it, but I did it though
I'm gonna bite into the body like the risk is no risk
I got the souped up car and what you call tripping on the boom bap etymological
I ride the fader and I ride it low
I'm gonna slip into the field like Han Solo
I'm rolling
One two into the amplifier, the electrified two
Into the amplifier, and you got to get to
Into the amplifier, one two into the amplifier
I'm rolling

His eyes go funny, you can't place why.
All dolled up in bellhop drag
It is like a burden to the beat, to the long gone
I was once misinformed about your intentions
Were you right to burn the rock star? Were you right to drop the roster?
On dollar bill, one dollar bill
Nah nah nah

When you were languishing in rooms I built to foul you in
And when the wind set down in funnel form and pulled you in
I don't need to walk around in circles
When the ghostly dust of violence traces everything
And when the gas is drained just wreck it, you insured the thing
But I can't sigh now that you made the move
It has gone and gone to dogs, lay down on the floor
For the right price I can get everything
Slip into the car, go driving to the farthest star

Blame
Is the cure
Cure anything
Throw the rudder down
Throw the rudder down
Broad
Latitude
Broad latitude
Throw the rudder down
Throw the rudder down

I stopped the thought before it's drip became insistent
I rubbed it out and loved the spot where it was missing
She's widely known the only maquereau that pays her taxes
I got to box her for the money, said it might end
Reeling and stubling, I've got to bump around a while
You don't use words like that, St. Louise is listening
You rang the eskimo to meet you at the station
Oh he's like milk to you half swedish and half asian
And your aphasia strikes a bargain with the barter yard
I got to box you for the money, said it might end
Reeling and stumbling, I've got to bump around a while
You don't use words like that, St. Louise is listening
I could be your babydoll, I could be your doll baby
I could be the things you want I could do it all for you
Let me get up on it, let me let me

Dum bah did du dum
I need time to scrounge the rent, need time to contemplate the accident
I got to drag my ass to now, how did I come to stop here?
And oh I knew the gas was gone but I had to rev the motor
Pull back the hand you might get it cut off in the motor
Maybe I'll come down
She's on Laureate's turf, she's on Laureate's side
She's in a better state, she feels a better fire
And oh I dreamed a great parade, shooting all the guns in Brooklyn
The man who had a spare held out two and then you and then you took one
Freeze or burn, all else is only icing

I met a girl on roller skates
She had a spare bag, she had lost some weight
Where I used to work, she was a waitress
She proposed a trade, it was generous
She's gone to Houston, feel like I'm floating in a warm sea
And if she finds out when she comes back, I know that she wil leave me
Oh I heard a sign, it was a dull crack
It was a clock hand, It was snapping back
Oh it wasn't her's, it was the dope's kiss
I'll take the blame upon my shoulder, I just love to feel like this
Roller Boogie, motherfucker

Lifting me up like a garage door
I need to feel it when the drug starts coming on
I know you Lord are a jealous lord
I know the tablet is your competition
And I need for you to be reasonable
How much? She said for three hundred dollars I'll do it
Beating me down just like a rain storm
I need to feel it when the rain starts coming on
I know the skin is a jealous skin
I know the sky it is its competition

Shooed out like a housefly
This house was half my mind
I don't dispute the doubts you've outlined
But it's my right to waste your time
And these things
It stands to reason
These things won't kill me
Your feelings
The spattering
It bores me
Don't tell me
Burned in on the 8th of May
She was spectacular
I walk a half-moon by the bus stop
Sliding 'cross the street to her
Three stings
Sequentially
Three strings
Won't kill me
Your spieling
Gracelessly
Is my grief
Please tell me
Half-masted, bass-boosted, slingbacked, fully retractable
Throw out the la-la by the busload
Match the photo to the description
I do indeed and shall continue
Dispatch the shiftless man to points beyond

Stop hitching the monster man
It was a bad plan, but I had to get to town
Unbitten, but the way I found it was a hand came down
And pow, I got illuminated
That's why I have got my mind in my own
Hand over the wave, hand over the water, the realest of the real
It's like the burnout said - phenomenon
To the ruder bar in a Buddha plump van
It was a stamped can, it was a clamor
Understanding, and all you people jumping but we raised the bar
You're dumber than a box of rocks
Give up, star
The inscrutable, the irrefutable, the illegible, the indisputable
The undisputed
Makes me go on a dig

Oh pride is not a sin, and that's why I have gone on down to Wal-Mart with my checkbook just to get you some.

Like waves in which you drown me, shouting.

I know you must've realized by now.

And by the lawnchairs there, next to the racks of guns, your self-esteem is waiting, canned up in aluminum.

Daughter to the pop veneer. Shining like a new mint quarter. Shining like the Franklin Mint. Seedy like the lampshade quarter. Rolling with the dopes you know. Rolling with the wrong gun on you. Going down to Baltimore. Going in an off-white Honda. Oh I miss the girl, miss the girl, miss the girl, I want to give myself to water. Speeding to the rupture line. Rat-a-tatting boombox moocher. Darling with the boop shuh-nai. Rat-a-tatting lose your future.

I dream that she aims to be the bloom upon my misery.

She rocks mop style, she needs the rest.

And I know it's not the same thing

I don't mind worry following me like a dinosaur. I don't fear I am descending into the molten core. So far, I have not found the science, but the numbers keep on circling me.

I'm gonna give you most of mine--I'm gonna give it if I don't slip you.

New York, New York, I won't go back--indelible reminder of the steel I lack. I gave you seven years, what did you give me back? A jaw-grind, disposition to a panic attack.

On this side, the incumbent. And who quoth: There's only one everything. Red sucker mouth.