[Verse 1] I'm susceptible to your lies I want to be objectified without concern for systems Naturally nervous disposition brims With concerns and contradictions The contrapositive impoverished heart stems And I'm Bart Simpson I've known the nothingness of chaos I've known the somethingness of fake Gods I've been out of place like transitional lenses Comma splices in a suspended sentence Kiss the nose of the vulture, destroy the broke culture That's what I was sent to do with a paper box of cherry cordials Already forgot what I'm meant to prove
[Hook] We can eat, gray clumps of sky Melancholy men are always witty, and I wonder why We can eat, gray clumps of sky Melancholy men are always witty, and I wonder why
[Refrain] (x2) So I kicked the air like I'm Bruce Lee And I mumbled like I'm Tunechi And I felt it in my cheek bones
[Hook] (x2)
[Instrumental break: 8 measures]
[Verse 2] We have a secret language Communicating in blinks and strange twitches My brain itches and I'm looking at pictures And I'm looking at pictures of pictures on Instagram Feeling like the Vicar of a little land That spans the length of this Afghan which is not below my knees I would make you breakfast with Raspberries And pick out the seeds, using nothing but my little fingers