Blockhead - Babies with Guns lyrics

Radio? Check, check Video? Check, check This is how the city folk and mole-people connect Somebody warped the message prior to pa**in it to the next Now the perforated counties making you upset Harvest all Brand-X Clark Kents to worm food Carbon heart buried his nozzle in fossil marker art Pardon, cadaver had a legitimate pulse And littered volts all over the village where the skittish pigeons molt ba*tard polter gasps when the pigeon with Lazarus billy-goat whiskers He roasted sea-salt in the open blisters But blind anarchy slips through the cracks See naked martyrs with Bubblelicious on fishing rods itching to pull it back When that organic invention incubated to hatch some comply to making fructose on paper now Apply the details later and the clues will taper out Unruley mayor souse, who piggy jammy happy shooting at the bladed mouth Bazooka Tooth zoo-keep the paper route with janky funds and favors Cradled by twelve empty Zelda heart containers Man, it's freezing in this brick b**h, winter forever Like Punxatawny Phil found with his four furry wrists severed I walk face-first through the s**, d**, and church With wild things that make Maurice Sendak question his early works But no hostages, no promises Out to clock corporate cogs and sprockets Not clogs, all grommets Running from a rabid ring-wraith click basilisk Serpentine, in and out of traffic jam and murder scenes Scrub blood of the AF1s 52 Pick-up first degrees Some toddlers smuggled tommy guns and crack into the nurseries Dog, there's a f**ing baby at the door asking for wallets And those ain't twin Beanie Babies inside his pockets 2010's sonograms showed the magnum formed directly out the fetus Evolution for the young k**er convenience Radio? Check, check Video? Check, check This is how the city folk and mole-people connect Somebody warped the message prior to pa**in it to the next Now the perforated counties making you upset Magazine? Check, check Paper route? Check, check This is how the hermitted and busy bee connect Somebody's losing track and their flesh and blood's in arrest Polka-dotted landscapes, what did you expect Now adays, even the babies got guns Diaper snipers having clocktower fun Misplace the bottle, might catch a bad one Have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young If this Jesus piece around your neck is bigger than your pistol It makes homicide okie-dokie and your god will forgive you Just show the saints at Heaven's gate You should be on the list I hear he overlooks manslaughter for a tattooed crucifix Twisty, fishy, contradicty, wild animal ship fleet Off the sliding board dock of the Mr. Turtle pool mom bought Somewhere they laminate dry bones in cool water and ease medulla After you thumb s** and diaper change, get burped and shoot the school up I'd duel too, but only to exploit no-brainers Teenager beef pa**ed alligator teeth and extra-curricular flagpole scrapping Amongst tadpoles it happens Yellow backbone de-mechanism brought airborne shrapnel scraps to ha**le captains By the itchy index of an umbilically garbed fraggle baby Fragile maybe, you think? Chopped shopin a mislead, maladjustee trustee locked box Hiding clips that light the sky in seconds Like fuel and communal hop-scotch gives them leverage Cuddle with mortars while I mumble In the immortal slang of mushmouth for the anti-led Nirvana I used to think I'd get hit by a bus or something Dumb and Dumber Now the bus is slugs plugged by the newest kiddie thug wonder Suffixed to kings, he rebel, wide pride dosage For tomorrow the holsters are bound to outnumber the roaches I'm not a coach But that'll even jolt the immobile When global terrorism's all the rage, your folk get smoked local Block, if you need me (Yeah?) I had to bounce to D.C. (Yeah?) To bullet-proof mom's flower garden before the war cheats me (Yeah?) If I'm not back in a week tell the crew I said peace and lay low Strays don't vacate slow Radio? Check, check Video? Check, check This is how the city folk and mole-people connect Somebody warped the message prior to pa**in it to the next Now the perforated counties making you upset Magazine? Check, check Newsflash! Check, check This is how the hermitted and busy bee connect Somebody's losing track and their flesh and blood's in arrest Polka-dotted landscapes, what did you expect Now adays, even the babies got guns Diaper snipers having clocktower fun Misplace the bottle, might catch a bad one Have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young Aboard the battleship Grey Sky The day I Got the phone call Jam Master Jay died So no, I'll probably never write another Daylight Because the stingers tend to cling more than the portable hay-rides It adds it up when a pioneer fall In comparison to your ninety-nine bottle of beer wall There's banana peels in your hamster wheels Hand-cannons in your shoe box Please Mine's got Adidas Rest in peace