Upsweep
    (专辑: Perfect Hair - 2014)
    
    Upsweep...  Upsweep...   Can you, can you...  Can you hear me?  I'm speaking through you  The 
signal weakens from this begrizzled beacon so pay attention   We painted our faces on a 
permanent moon to avoid being type cast as surrogate coons  But there is no treatment for American gloom, so I'm taking my reverberant room and I'm gone far  With the 
money and sheet music and discarded doodles (yeah)  The 
company they work for cut spending, bringing all ballerisms to abrupt ending  But if you think it's me you're up-ending  We could be grinding even if it's gut wrenching  And we're on one  Like we're knee deep in drug-vending, fuck lemmings whose love spending gives us the 
best things  Like a J 
down the 
space suit of sweat stained  The 
undercovers gave me a 
cute pet-name  Now I'm being targeted by jet-plane  Because I'm so motherfucking subversive  With excessive panache I'm dressed in a 
sash  My name is a 
number, an X 
and a 
dash  Embedded in mass who stole all the 
savings and had sex with the 
cash   As far as these lives, we get one each  And then our bodies are tucked in the 
junk heap  But all these mistakes tend to cut deep  I 
swear I 
can hear you die just a 
little bit in the 
  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep   Yo  Dangling in a 
thread of my temporal lobe  I 
thrust my fist up life's freckled nose  Then walked around like I 
genitals to hold  It wasn't for embezzled gold  It was just for you and you and you  Don't propose a 
toast for unusual hosts  Using musical notes to fuel the 
U-Boats  (You pricks)  All the 
credit inside your checking account  Sits in a 
mechanized sexless mouth  And getting it back, boy, the 
pressure mounts  So you're having a 
stroke and the 
medic's en route  This is the 
ending  I 
was showing niggas that I 
had exquisite taste  Now I'm locked out of all of my vivid scapes  And the 
capital gains is a 
Christian faith  Of the 
livid apes, staying in debate  Over the 
unhappy lives that we have to live  But we still do it, eating inkjets, building swing sets from dragon ribs  All the 
internet chatter is a 
by-product of my madness  Turning me into a 
vapid and glib capitalist pig  I 
didn't notice until now that a 
shoe's a 
phone  For what reason would any tycoon atone?  But for me to find money I 
need to get a 
dune combed  Because I'm so motherfucking self-destructive  I'm caressing a 
rash from a 
decadent past  My judgment calls are second at last  I'm rendered in ash when I 
ingest the 
asp   As far as these lives, we get one each  Then our bodies are tucked in the 
junk heap  But I 
can't afford all the 
upkeep  I 
swear I 
can hear myself die just a 
little bit in the 
  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep  Upsweep