The Mars Volta - Tasmanian Pain Coaster lyrics

[Intro: From the 1992 film "Fire Walk With Me"] Do you think that if you were falling in space That you would slow down after a while, or go faster and faster? Faster and faster For a long time you wouldn't feel anything Then you would burst into fire, for ever And the angel's won't help you, cause they've all gone away (Uno, dos, uno, dos, tres, cuatro) I saw this kid walking down the street I was like "wait" (echoes) [El-P] Bumped into this kid I knew, he often would walk strange So I ignored the blood on his laces so this cat could save face The dunks and the gaze stayed in an off grey haze And the lump in his pocket talked to the ox that he clutched safe So I saluted him there, waiting for the A Trapped on the empty platform without the option to escape Gave him the standard: "Yo, what up man, how you landin'?" And the hypnotized response was no surprise: "I maintain" "Yeah we all do, that's the standardized refrain But on some really real man, good to see you, really, what the dealy deal?" Oops, f**, screwed the pooch, asked too much, knew the truth On the train now, a caboose In his brain now, no recluse 80 blocks to uptown spot, destination vocal booth Metro-card like: "you get what you pay for, stupid", no excuse He pulled his hoody off his cabbage rugged practical And began to fancy the words I mistakenly jostled loose The stogie he brazenly lit where he sit looked legit But when the flame touched to the tip I could smell it's of another nit He leaned his head back and inhaled the newpie dip and said "The whole design got my mind cryin', if I'm lyin' I'm dyin'..sh**" This is the sound of what you don't know k**ing you This is the sound of what you don't believe still true This is the sound of what you don't want still in you TPC motherf**er, cop a feel or two The whole design got my mind cryin', if I'm lyin' I'm dyin' Dyin', I'm flyin', the same line, no disguise, guy...I'm bent up Know the sky's high by coincidence and I'm tied blind insignificant To the ground function I'm Munsoned, it's the dreaded 7/10 split again The medic made it out to be, epidemic shaded...wow for me Evidence of pressures mounting, residential shroud: Kings County Brotherhood of the working wounded, wounded working city unit Taking out the trash and strappin in, let's get it movin', stupid Many men make moves more useless, use abuse quick Losers, juiceless b**h, either speak the truth or you leave toothless Two fists of the furiously ruthless Justice for my very own amusement with no regard for the conclusion I swagger with rats tappin' the gla** in a Gov. lab Pa** me the gloves, mask and flask of the cheapest liquor you have In the back of the Tasmanian path, insane again laughin Cacklin' at the randomness of the city and all its facts The dark art of interrogation agent skippin' cla** And at last in a flash on my tip toes walkin' on cracked gla** Gats blast and wiz by fast or just catch in my calves like "hold that!" In other words: I'm trash, glad you asked This is the sound of what you don't know k**ing you This is the sound of what you don't believe still true This is the sound of what you don't want still in you TPC motherf**er, cop a feel or two Your future's uncertain here now The plot smears on the wall Said, your future's uncertain here now The plot smears on the wall