Salt - Aesop Rock

Severe cold, stare at the code

Keep a small circle like a deer in a scope

Let me clear my throat (Let me clear my throat)

Pocketful of rocket fuel and pyramid stones

Invoke a spirit from the parallel

Appearing as unwelcome news

That drag you to the shadow realm

And back for show and tell at school

Promising a future more bedraggled than bedazzled

When, «It isn’t you, it’s me,» began the dagger to the scabbard

Free snake tats, plays on train tracks

Dorm like a door to Hell, the doorbell plays Taps

Born inside a ring of baffled demonologists

A casualty of otherness, what the fuck’s an olive branch?

Rats as big as cattle sent to Babylon convulsing

The home sweet home that sees you as bag of hostile protein

While I do believe that you believe you’re adding to the magic of the motif

Homie, all I hear is, «Dad, I want a pony»

Fuck the police, I’m floating out with the Camazotz

Property of nada, runs on Trompe le Monde and Otter Pops

Roger that, cobblestone beyond the common polygraph

His middle fingers wear little safari hats

Chainsaw shave in the house of a thousand tonics

They’re magic if you need a cure for lack of sour vomit

Son, it’s not a thing

Everywhere I go, I call to make sure there’s a fog machine

Posse up and follow the anomalies

That’s a unique wind

Spun a whip out in the snow

Really ain’t got shit

Your condition is not a condition we know

Maximum effect

Maximum effect

The rats are back and built their own ship

They’re backstroking faster than the old ship

A rat’s a rat, it scatters, that’s like its magic power

The bowing out it when your house is being smashed to powder

Ping in the rubble, located burning his bacon

Ravens deliver him trinketry in eternal damnation

I make disturbing the stasis a game to beat when the mania boils

Even the days when the pavement’s keeping his platelets employed

Stole an ox on occasion

I go through wands too quickly to name 'em

Okay I’ll name one, it’s the rod of fuck the nonsense

A basic wave and nod’ll turn bravado into fondant

We slalom from beyond the wildly oscillating compass

Whether you connect the dots or not is truly not my problem

Familiar with the color of permanent cloud cover

Though I’ve heard there might be others, I’ll buy it when it buffers

Until then a dry and lifeless pile of, «Whys?»

and, «Ay carambas»

In a bubble watching dumpster fires multiply in numbers

I know that fear and love and death and pride and romance hold you by your

Chukkas

Though it’s unclear what some closure might encompass

A bid to visit symmetry from civil war and swim ashore

Sob story same as yours, but a little more, ha

I’m in the alley pacing, I’m skirting curtain call

I make my hospital corners in a circle of salt

That’s a unique prayer

Pretty nervous on the low

Only came up for air

You condition is not a condition we know