[Verse 1: Angle]
Zzzz, Since day one, on a record I've been known to grandstand (yeah)
But I'm cursed with a shadow occupied by the Sandman (yeah)
Labor of love, work of lust, to dream or bust, eyes wide shut
Prophet in a coffee cup, had your fill, had enough, sleep walking like “what's up?”
Time to slide up under the covers with alias Angle and various others
‘Cause telling a story's my bread and my bu*ter, so closing your third eye just might get you smothered
(breathing) Pillow to the face, until, your struggle no longer takes place
Yeah, I had to go there, to grab your attention by the back of the hair
I'm tired of hearing “heads ain't ready.” You're just a bu*ter knife, I'm a machete
I make it mine like a bouncing Betty, legendary in my mind like a yeti
Gripping the blankets with the sheets all sweaty, I'm captivating like Cash at Folsom
But lost in the fold like Waldo, rubbing elbows with a band of tapping Al Jolsons
In the land of the wholesome, got to know when to hold ‘em
Got to roll with the doldrums, sit back, crack open a cold one
Black lids and lack of a tan, make up the damn, Definitive brand
Me and my shadow will sneak down your street, turn your House Party into a pajama jammy jaaaam!