Daylight (2001)
by Aesop Rock
Put one up for Shackle Me Not, clean Logic Pro-creation. I did not invent the wheel, I was the crooked spoke adjacent. While the triple-sixers' lassos keep angels roped in the basement, I walk the block with a halo on a stick, poking your patience. Y'all catch a thirty-second flash visual. Dirty cooperative med platoon, bloom, head-trip split ridiculous. Fathom the splicing of first-generation fuck-up with trickle-down anti-hero smack. I pace my game for zero hour completion cretin, splash. Duke of early retirement picket dream. American Nightmare hogging the screen. I'll hold the door open, so you can stumble in, if you'd stop following me 'round the jungle gym. Now it's "honor," and I spell it with the "H" I stole from "heritage." Merit crutched on the wretched refuse of my teeming resonance. I promise, tempest-tossed breed with a bleeding conscience. See, the creed accents responsive, but my sports divorced the wattage. And I'm sleeping now, wow! Yeah, the settlers laugh. You won't be laughing when your covered wagons crash. You won't be laughing when the buzzards drag your brother's flags to rags. You won't be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs. Then I'll hang my boots to rest when I'm impressed. So I triple knot 'em and forgot 'em. His origami dream is beautiful, but man, those wings will never leave the ground. Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down🏁
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Put one up for Shackle Me Not, clean Logic Pro-creation. I did not invent the wheel, I was the crooked spoke adjacent. While the triple-sixers' lassos keep angels roped in the basement, I walk the block with a halo on a stick, poking your patience. Y'all catch a thirty-second flash visual. Dirty cooperative med platoon, bloom, head-trip split ridiculous. Fathom the splicing of first-generation fuck-up with trickle-down anti-hero smack. I pace my game for zero hour completion cretin, splash. Duke of early retirement picket dream. American Nightmare hogging the screen. I'll hold the door open, so you can stumble in, if you'd stop following me 'round the jungle gym. Now it's "honor," and I spell it with the "H" I stole from "heritage." Merit crutched on the wretched refuse of my teeming resonance. I promise, tempest-tossed breed with a bleeding conscience. See, the creed accents responsive, but my sports divorced the wattage. And I'm sleeping now, wow! Yeah, the settlers laugh. You won't be laughing when your covered wagons crash. You won't be laughing when the buzzards drag your brother's flags to rags. You won't be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs. Then I'll hang my boots to rest when I'm impressed. So I triple knot 'em and forgot 'em. His origami dream is beautiful, but man, those wings will never leave the ground. Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down🏁