Slurred Emotions

Demade Lines 36 Times

2-13-08

This is the 3rd son comin', so save your scene points,
and grab a chair in the rear as if you're unprepared
while I'm up here makin' up more of what you like-
so watch out, 'cuz Five's got a dirty mic.
I put the road in the closet and locked the door;
it's getting so brutal, my skeletons are at war.
Hooked up like Vietnam on full-speed autopilot
and debating the truth with all the great misfits.
I've got no patience for weightlessness
and bad decisions and other false interests.
The fall faller; the movement to move.
Everything's at stake and I got somethin' to prove.

Baby don't get so buttery, it fattens on my hips
and if I let you slip away there'll be panic on these lips.
I'm runnin' amok at the mouth, practicing hellos
and imagining your voice being stronger than a thousand noes.
This is for all my clarity stuck in the present
and trying to view my life as an unspent accident.
And this goes out to everyone who gives this two stars:
where'd you catch that crazy train and who let you off?
This might be enough to make you spit your herbal tea
and it might be enough to get people out of seats.
It might not earn me a full-time job
but it's enough for people to dance to and sing along.

I used to break hearts with impassionate words.
Nowadays I just slice throats with microphone cords.
Your rhymes are only steam, I vanish 'em in the vapor
usin' Robert Fulton's power placed in cigarette papers.
Some people wanna tear down; I prefer to build
takin' what they leave behind to finish and fill.
So go ahead, put my life on trial;
judge me with your metric feet 'cuz I'm free for miles.
I walk on shaky ground, floating on quicksand.
I still manage to use the letter A's legs to stand.
I climb over your rocks and try to lead over this gravel
so that those comin' behind me can have safer travels.