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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | The Rabbithole |
Album: | Ultraviolet | Genres: | 12 |
Year: | 2014 |
Length: | 425 sec |
Lyrics:
[Verse] How far does this rabbit hole go? Alice in a Blunderland, flammable soul Animals roam and the catacomb slows Searching for capital, searching for hope Churning the sad into tangible goals They’re burning their flags to adapt to the cold Ration control, happiness sold Eye-for-eye habits, a cannibal cult They feed me cyanide tablets They breathe low at the sight of my panic Heavy-hearted, mind if I stab it? Depths of my sanity, height of my madness I’m on prescriptions, Iodine tablets I don't trust the water, so why would I have it? Jim Jones with the Kool-Aid, sip slow Two faces, one slit throat Animals pile and the ocean’s a medicine Alcohol files, the Coke and the Mescaline Antidote style, smoke for adrenaline And I don't smile, it exposes my skeleton I got the soul of an elephant Grieving the lost on a road that’s so desolate Echoes are still resonant, the ghost of the Oedipus And Dear God letters that I wrote for the Hell of it You see the tendencies For them, it’s to tend and cease, but not me See, I can attend and get ten degrees Attention-piqued, to ten ‘til the tenure’s reached, but not me Increase intensity I’ll walk 'til the tendons cease, Achilles I can walk to attend Dead Seas, and drown myself in it Narcissus did it, give it any minute I'll admit that I am just an artist that's a part of this equation, huh? Nah, I’m a part of this aphasia I fucked myself, I’m so auto-nymphomania I gotta make-up words, it’s getting harder to explain it but The particles in my brain erupt The pace is up, when I’m vulnerable and caught up in the mania I’m in the cut off that Indica, inner-cuts Never seem to cease and so I zip it shut I’m on a 50, a milli, a milli grams Enough so I’m not a killi, a killing them I feel a million, I'm the villain I'm Antagonistic, vicious obsidian But so purple inspired Circlin' tired in a circus attire Bumbling bumble bee, worker for hire Build prisons to live in, and churches for liars Perfect environments to purchase desire Selling their souls for which version is higher Parents used to listen to that Earth, Wind and Fire But I like Cohen, bird on a wire Moral compass is like, 'Fuck it, I don’t need it' If it bleeds, then it can die, and if it dies then I can eat it That includes my inner demons, platitudes and my secrets that I keep Atlas with the clavicle, so creep With me as I crawl through the hood, maniac Lunatic, or just unimpressed, yeah I've felt a hundred deaths Facing all the greatest odds, but I’m in the hunt again Pacing ‘til it makes me lost, swell until I’m puffer fish Razor in an aching jaw, red all in my upper-lip Take it with a grain of salt, set it in the cut you left Painting on the caveman walls, sentences my lover said I'll chase you down the rabbit hole until I lose my breath
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