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John Brown's Vaporizer Lyrics

sure pal...i'll sell you your scalp back
for every something to draw with you ever owned
and...nahh
uncle, give me a blackened lung and clavicle...
or i could wriggle my zero non emphatical...
strap you to a mountain side and hurl redwoods at your
rotten hide
under here while boughs, bird's nests and tree limbs
fly...
you simply...drip down the rock face...pureed head
case...
close as tincy-wincy crumbs of a whole
fall upon the forest's plush green canopy...
i, forgive me...like rain...happy now...no brain...err
and wrongful treatments what i'll preserve you
in...mummification..
the uncouth barbarian takes it in the...huhuhuh...
it's what he deserves. underglass fine grain crushed
herb...
reckon i could make a mint charging a healthy cover for
a glimpse
of your freakish clump of quadropalegic gusto...
something done swung low...but your going home in a
crucible...jerk.

call it a meltdown...it's really good clean smart...
soul and body of john brown sings in me...
no...you start...

no...i insist...you start...as you were...
watch...far end of the cantalever's sparkling
thermometer burst...sparkling...
thin air folds the crumpled to stationary...huh....
and unsuspecting solid blocks of refuse to rock
apparently pour with apologenic and "can i please go
see the nurse?"
right before my eyes..."i don't feel so good..."
wimper snivel bounces off bell tower stone for lastly
gongs and chimes
in what's clockwork...sullen hunchback,
pressure rings out to trail blood on
lobes...abandonment's all about your...
impregnable and hit the lights yaknamsayin' jive
turkey,
huntin' season's open...so i hum 'we are the world'
polishing a 12-gauge conversion ratio...pausing
now and again to practice you foul calls and set the
sight,
dinner's waiting...get a move on
my time you won't not be extremely careful with that
ink pen...or
bust stuffing waltzes in smug...extending a metaphor
as i hang this inexpensively framed license to practice
taxidermy on the wall you...tear..."he's certified..."
for real...
no crocodile...no tuff shell...dull blades, less
formaldehyde
to finish 'er up...some grooming here, a glass eye
there...
needle thread...whooahla! nothing's prolonged...you
make the room,
subtly off-setting the bearskin rug and luciously
apholstered automen...
hardcore...far from...treasure of the trove.

boy...you'd better snuggle up in a passive
voice...or...
carry on and leave me no choice..."who's the
vaporizer?"

it's the boy in me that binds a worldly gutted man's
angst to change,
celebratory delta paints shit-eating grins
on what you and mirrors think my face looks like...
visuals expecting this alone despite
a nothing dissimilar has prepared its most stable
student
with number 2 pencils and a sick sense of humor. prude
lent
me a whopping six years of fun in the sun...i see it
all...you blink...
to be blinded and amused, cheering, clapping, palms
vermillion...
to raw-soar...never feeling a note...
i could cry for you all but empathy...wept smudges
what's wrote,
to lock, stock and barrel surroundings with quotes
coughee through corners of loose leaf...my later on
environmental processing unit..and you say cheese
in a torrid three-piece tunic...
so i can bank their drift and fill a page to it...
golly, i'll lead 'em all second hand virgins out of the
grain shortage
with a no longer lit roch and thimble full of
prestigous...or
i may find your devoted half-mast and shift thick skin
to brash
and show you sad's six-hundredth and something shade...
swearing solemnly you'll see no parts of unscathed...
do though, consider this frame of mmm..molestation,
more than a suspect identity roast...
since it's really your last hippity hiphoppin' hope,
and open gets no wider as i provide for your cope...
with twice the substance and conversly quadroople the
texturizer.
who's the...prey tell...who's the vaporizer?

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these lyrics are submitted by kaan

Record Label(s): 2003 Anticon
Official lyrics by

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