Don't Think (feat. Sage Francis)
Quelle: Spotify
[Verse 1: Joe Horton:]
Inked up temptress in a see through dress
Sipping pink umbrella drinks in the swell of strings before the tempest come
I met her at the multiplex
Tried to catch her with a faulty net ‘ Acted like I let her go
Then I wrote a letter home
Mourning all the beauty in my past that I would never know again
In the center fold, I spit, giving up the last bit of her I had to give
Flickering kiss ‘ Ravenous lips on a salty neck
Yet, with all due respect to the sentences
I could never end ‘em so I sent ‘em where the skeptics live
Bottled at the bottom of river with the messages
Lesson is, objects of affection turn to fetishes quick
Awkward in the dark then shark fin flinch
Blood slick in the water ‘ Caught a whiff
Lifted up a mirror ‘ Aimed it at her softer parts
Just another trick that I borrowed from Oliver Hart
Left the theater with a knee jerk
Reaction to the caption saying Samson you don’t need her
Years later and I’m blissfully bald
But every now and then I get a glimpse of what it’s like when pillars fall
[homesick feedback ‘ Reeling ‘ Tin can cut string taunt red calls from last evening]
No bottom to the feeling ‘ Merciless bent space ‘
It hurts that it hurts to see her face
In the depth of the pain one wave rippling intricate shapes
So complicated a simple brain would be insane to be sane
When did it start? [It didn't]
How does it stop? [it doesn't]
Glad to know I’m doing all of this for nothing
[Hook:]
I hate how you don’t know how much I hate how you don’t know
How beautiful I think you don’t think you are
I hate how you don’t know how much I hate how you don’t know
How beautiful I think you don’t think you are
[Verse 2: Sage Francis:]
Whatever I was cracked up to be might've sucked to me
So I cracked myself up whether or not anyone else thought it was funny
Touchy feely sensitive scum of the mother earthlings
Depressed by the wonderful number the caged bird sings
Surfs up on that vanishing coastline. Man who is post-prime
Denies the damages though he’s covered in bandages the whole time
Manages to co-sign the next up and coming act
Depletes the gold mine front to back, sucking’ blood and pocketing cash
Under the table, over the heads of the gullible youth director collective
No test of leadership, no truth detector
Attempting to resist the transition from playfully crazy to plain old crazy
Just break the mold maybe
I can’t hold your baby, I already told the lady this
But if they overpay me, I’ll bankroll your laziness
I've gotta get an alias that’s different. Get a new face
And finally fix the zipper on my suitcase
Skip to my Lou Farigno
As I walk down this dusty road with ripped jeans, big dreams & inflatable pillow
A brillo notepad for rough sketches and love letters
For faux pas fashionistas with a fascination for ugly sweaters
Correspondence sent directly from the trenches
So it might not reach you til after I've served my sentence
If you happen to be married I’ll be happy to kill him for a small fee
Signed, yours forever and always
Paulie
[Hook:]
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