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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Blue Sunshine |
Album: | Ultraviolet | Genres: | 12 |
Year: | 2014 |
Length: | 193 sec |
Lyrics:
[Intro] A: Listen man, not to be rude or anything but uh...What are you? I mean your costume B: I'm a body bag. I thought the invitation said come as you are
[Verse 1] My style is gory like an Edgar Allan story Monkey’s paw, allegory, fucking raw, category Edward Gorey, sorted sorta morbid, chloroform for ‘em Fuck their foreign forums, I’ll deform 'em with some four-inch forceps There's no distortions, take misfortunes and record 'em A borderline personality, plus poor decorum Pour the poor me, more aurora borealis I'm forming calluses from holding grudges more than normal Got a smorgasbord, supportive followers and won't ignore 'em Portland, Oregon, all the way to Portland, Maine, for the boredom I’m going Foreman forming coarsest choruses Agoraphobic portions, lived behind my ribs, absorbed and dormant Fortified a fortress I have lived in since the storm arrived Left ‘em mortified from horror I’ve reported, boarded up The windows and their doors are shut to keep out the vandals A four-cornered room and I'm staring at candles
[Hook] A reflection I don't recognize, set with deader eyes Looking petrified, breath is like a pesticide Skeleton and extra-sized flesh of mine to gelatin Resembling the dead alive, I identify with my enemies I don't like me either, I can empathize Never mind the effort I have severed to my lesser side Weathered all the weather, let the temper rise
[Verse 2] Even in the misery, I don’t want the company I'm cuddling with ghosts that I know will accompany Me to the grave, I made with a spade Take me away, shutter-speed suddenly Utterly infatuated with the patterns splattered on my atoms Past or present lacks a presence when you just don’t give a, fuck you Martyr or a carnivore, art of war, Sun-Tzu, Sun-Tzu Someone come undo these hum-drum views I sing and hum drums to My tongue gon’ spew some blood unto these dumbfucks who gon’ run amok So run those jewels, I’m numb and dumb to the gumshoe ones who Wonder what I been up to, what’s the matter, is that body bag too baggy, boy?
[Bridge] So minimalissimo At least three Gs of the Indica leaf to blow In the pit of my seedy skull Untreatable when the sinister creature roams To each his own, since when do you eat your own? They called me precious, and said I'm a piece of gold I said they're fools, they don't listen to reason though This blue sunshine hidden between my bones
[Hook]
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