Lyrics to Jimmy Breeze (Side B)
It seems I'm only meeting sleep
Are we meeting
dream at the concrete bottom of the brody garage bridge you just jumped from
who would've ever thought art school could be so sickening
wearing a werewolf mask, you tuck your shirt in
you said its nice to look like you just stepped out of a movie
and sure, you look cinematic
silhouette in the edge of a roof of a car parked
under the orange sun set sky
with an empty sketch pad and a werewolf mask
we always meet too late after you done did it
put cracks in concrete fifty feet from where I first saw you stand
a pack of little birds peck at your flesh and your monster mask
as I reach to touch your shoes to track the trail of where you've been
The ram's crumpled horn, an empty turtle shell
Sunset is an all day process,
Sunset is an all day process
We seem to be sinking deeper into a vat of honey glaze
Shall we live,
Or shall we laminate ourselves into a standard appetizing position
That's the next order on the supply list
Calls for reynold's wrap and contact paper
Report covers and lacquer amd I here to something something
I'll start a dead butterfly collection
William Howard Taft is appalled that as an artist
I wouldn't want to overindulge in a set of
Highly toxic and rare natural pigments
Or beautiful paper to waste the rainforest with
But friends, we no longer a need for glitzy masters
Who paint gold leafs holy babies at the backs of cathedrals
Are we meeting
dream at the concrete bottom of the brody garage bridge you just jumped from
who would've ever thought art school could be so sickening
wearing a werewolf mask, you tuck your shirt in
you said its nice to look like you just stepped out of a movie
and sure, you look cinematic
silhouette in the edge of a roof of a car parked
under the orange sun set sky
with an empty sketch pad and a werewolf mask
we always meet too late after you done did it
put cracks in concrete fifty feet from where I first saw you stand
a pack of little birds peck at your flesh and your monster mask
as I reach to touch your shoes to track the trail of where you've been
The ram's crumpled horn, an empty turtle shell
Sunset is an all day process,
Sunset is an all day process
We seem to be sinking deeper into a vat of honey glaze
Shall we live,
Or shall we laminate ourselves into a standard appetizing position
That's the next order on the supply list
Calls for reynold's wrap and contact paper
Report covers and lacquer amd I here to something something
I'll start a dead butterfly collection
William Howard Taft is appalled that as an artist
I wouldn't want to overindulge in a set of
Highly toxic and rare natural pigments
Or beautiful paper to waste the rainforest with
But friends, we no longer a need for glitzy masters
Who paint gold leafs holy babies at the backs of cathedrals
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