DJ: Purple, grape, I can bake your thoughtless rachet face into a steak, kummerspeck, you’re awarded by Darwin, an honorable mention on the pavement not but a stone’s throw from separating cranium from torso, moreso apocalypticalaminerationalitoblerone end of the flea bites’ nutritional chocolate used to kill children, Krafty responses, Mondelēz bae chips have trans fat discard them, postmortem Caillou bald head split wide through and died from the blithe and a sizable lack of the blind truth, convoluted answers in the solute say its basic, but I’d rather have the acid in my eyes than spit less alkaline blood, health is relative, Mondelēz argues its irrelevant, that while we’re splattered with mud, they’re diamond mining us, blood minds and gold veins leading to the heart of profit of the dominus, towering enigma without dignity or omnibus patent of its system, even though the obscurity’s what allowed you in the cistern of leeches, it’s my turn to rip you off my back and snap your jaw off, and regardless of the hirudin I’ll stop the bleeding at Nordhoff and Lindley, learning how to talk right, hearing all these math ideas, I came thirty fucking miles for a bandaid and a catheter, but I’m losing my eyesight, regret in my hindsight, I came here to cauterize, but I’m leaking from both eyes, fatigued, a tad wired, and dry skin from the fire in the sky and I don’t moisturize but find time for gapped thighs and crashing into bedsheets, wreckage in my lack of sleep from that bright screen as I’m breaking my skin, jaded from my eye lean, but my Macbook is dying, and I can’t reach that charger, I’m stranded at Cypress and it’s hotter than hell here, and I have to walk back to your passive aggression, but if you impose upon my composure, I will stitch your eyelids to your eyebrows and massage asbestos into your irises.
credits
from A Fool Album,
released May 16, 2015
DJ || Volivoli
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