Busdriver - Ethereal Driftwood lyrics

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Busdriver - Ethereal Driftwood lyrics

Y'all want to see tits and a**, Street grit and sa** As beatniks smoking gra** on holiday -You know what we want- You're looking for a grievance to mask, preferably with a fetus in the trash While you eat quiche and laugh on the Champs-Elysee -You know what we want- I'm not down with that B-list staff, As they yell out Jesus at ma** I'll be laughing while I knead this mish-mash of pottery clay -You know what we want- An appropriated grease-slick slab, posted up as a meat stick add But I make the average moviegoer too seasick and sad -You know what we want- And I'm too caustic to run, for office or be expunged For my agnostic plunge -You know what we want- So what I've accomplish and done, is viewed as an off-setted pun By the posh and young tastemakers -You know what we want- An overdone tame premise, I jump from the plane wreckage Unscathed yet sunbathed in the rigors of a ba** pluck -You know what we want- Pop culture's lame vestiges, I'm an ordained pessimist With hippie-qualms and sticky bombs to deter the tank-truck I'm good for a belly laugh Covered in a blanket of ash Leaving with an ankle cast But sometimes I feel that… I don't have what you want So won't you accept my humble offerings Broken TV sets as ethereal driftwood When you're on the plane alive with water wings You'll think,'I didn't know surrendering felt this good' I don't have what you want So won't you accept my humble offerings They want semantics and sniveling Grams to sniff on a triple-beam To be hand-picked for a little scene In a student film All I have is pamphlets full of liberal zing Antihistamines in a syringe-sling A shanty for this fitted king Of uprooted elm And they've been given solar-powered cars Trail mix and power bars Upturned tarot cards They want to be heralded by wishful teens In stretch-Hummers and limousines They're beyond medicinal means -You know what we want- But I gave them a protagonist The color of cinnamon and mahogany filtered through award-winning cinematography And the motherf#$%ing discography of a G If you don't like it then kick rocks I'm pre-history's disc-jock Yeah, I know what you wanted homie but I never had the s#$t in-stock I don't have what you want So won't you accept my humble offerings Broken TV sets as ethereal driftwood When you're on the plane alive with water wings You'll think, 'I didn't know surrendering felt this good' I don't have what you want So won't you accept my humble offerings…

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