Battery Lyrics
| Song | Battery |
| Artist | Aesop Rock |
| Album | Labor Days |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Yo, change the ****ing channel. | |
| I burn a coma candle. | |
| When the flame fades, consider my flat line a soldier sample. | |
| We them cats talking noise behind that | |
| New York trash heap where the stench of commuter briefcase replaces a bad sleep. | |
| And it's the work of zig-zaggers versus piggy badge flashers training generation fallout. | |
| Waterfall, bricklayer, pincushion crawl out. | |
| There's smoke in my iris, but | |
| I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids so | |
| I'm ready now. (What you ready for?) | |
| I'm ready for life in this city and my wings have grown almost enough to lift me. | |
| I'm a dinosaur with | |
| Jones Beach in my hourglass passing the time with serial killer coloring books and bags of marbles. | |
| Don't tell me you ain't the droid that held the match to the charcoals. | |
| Don't tell me | |
| Lucifer and | |
| God don't carpool. (This is our school) | |
| I'm not trying to graduate to life with a personalized bar-stool, head in a jar on the desk, feet dangling in a shark pool. (Man please) | |
| Man please | |
| My name stands for my being and my being stands for the woman who stood and braved the storm to raise the seedling. (Brother sun, sister moon, mother beautiful) | |
| Yeah, middle sibling suitable but far from son of excellence. | |
| Beckoned a long time ago | |
| I was, to where the wishers wish but misers miss, | |
| I slept through my appointment. | |
| Saw the liquid dreams of a thousand babies solidify and picked a rose. | |
| It wilted the second | |
| I introduced myself as nervous. | |
| Well, it appears the scars of learning have spoken. | |
| Some are burning, some are frozen. | |
| Some deserve tall tales, some wrote 'em. | |
| Some are just a brutal repercussion of devotion. | |
| Mine are all of the above 'cause everything leads to erosion. | |
| Now where | |
| I live there's a homeless man. | |
| He sits upon a crate | |
| Yeah, He makes a rusty trumpet sound like the music that angels make. | |
| Now if you ever come and visit me, | |
| I suggest you watch the show | |
| Tell him Aesop | |
| Rock sent ya just to hear his horn blow like this * | |
| Horn samples* [Aesop Rock] | |
| And I ain't getting any younger. | |
| My knuckles wear their bruises well. | |
| I've yet to lose that hunger, but only time can tell. | |
| Prodigal sun with a prodigal wish to sew that prodigal stitch and crucify bigot voodoo doll on two | |
| Popsicle sticks. | |
| See, your name is ambiguity. | |
| My name is something hands can't hold but hearts part ocean scapes just to watch the starlet unfold | |
| It's like sketching a circle in the dirt with a pointed stick knowing the wind'll kill it some day, still it calms my burning wits for now. | |
| And if I plow the fields, that don't guarantee plentiful harvest but starving artists die, so | |
| I set my alarm for five o'clock | |
| Idols block survival crops, the cycle stops for nothing | |
| The Bible squawks revival as winos flock by the hundreds to the opening. | |
| Scarlet carpets greeting the duel, leading the stubborn mule to cruel rug burn but y'all numb from gut fuel. | |
| I administer eclipse. | |
| Ain't no motor like a martyr made motor 'cause a martyr made motor don't quit. | |
| I am an epiphany. | |
| I am webbed foot mammal channel surfing my way to the top. | |
| Tugboat in a bottle with no holes poked in the nozzle | |
| I fed 'em bedlam diluted in limelight 'til that rookie boogie graduated hostile. | |
| Now the vehicle is grandeur and it veered over the median the second my halo ran outta helium. | |
| Demoted to thorn crown. | |
| Damn, talk about numbskull. | |
| I was born bound to a stencil called symmetry but my energy's a rental. | |
| So I take this now to say, thank you señorita for holding a flame to a lost wick. | |
| Thank you | |
| James Anthony for the band-aids on my ego, y'all are family for life, | |
| I'll take that bullet to preserve you. | |
| I wanna be something spectacular on the day the sun runs outta batteries. | |
| Attach my fashion to the casualties of anarchy. | |
| Save my nickels up to buy that homeless man a brand new horn, then sit up on his crate as a witness to beauty born like this... (I ain't gettin' any younger) * | |
| Horn samples to end* |
| Yo, change the ing channel. | |
| I burn a coma candle. | |
| When the flame fades, consider my flat line a soldier sample. | |
| We them cats talking noise behind that | |
| New York trash heap where the stench of commuter briefcase replaces a bad sleep. | |
| And it' s the work of zigzaggers versus piggy badge flashers training generation fallout. | |
| Waterfall, bricklayer, pincushion crawl out. | |
| There' s smoke in my iris, but | |
| I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids so | |
| I' m ready now. What you ready for? | |
| I' m ready for life in this city and my wings have grown almost enough to lift me. | |
| I' m a dinosaur with | |
| Jones Beach in my hourglass passing the time with serial killer coloring books and bags of marbles. | |
| Don' t tell me you ain' t the droid that held the match to the charcoals. | |
| Don' t tell me | |
| Lucifer and | |
| God don' t carpool. This is our school | |
| I' m not trying to graduate to life with a personalized barstool, head in a jar on the desk, feet dangling in a shark pool. Man please | |
| Man please | |
| My name stands for my being and my being stands for the woman who stood and braved the storm to raise the seedling. Brother sun, sister moon, mother beautiful | |
| Yeah, middle sibling suitable but far from son of excellence. | |
| Beckoned a long time ago | |
| I was, to where the wishers wish but misers miss, | |
| I slept through my appointment. | |
| Saw the liquid dreams of a thousand babies solidify and picked a rose. | |
| It wilted the second | |
| I introduced myself as nervous. | |
| Well, it appears the scars of learning have spoken. | |
| Some are burning, some are frozen. | |
| Some deserve tall tales, some wrote ' em. | |
| Some are just a brutal repercussion of devotion. | |
| Mine are all of the above ' cause everything leads to erosion. | |
| Now where | |
| I live there' s a homeless man. | |
| He sits upon a crate | |
| Yeah, He makes a rusty trumpet sound like the music that angels make. | |
| Now if you ever come and visit me, | |
| I suggest you watch the show | |
| Tell him Aesop | |
| Rock sent ya just to hear his horn blow like this | |
| Horn samples Aesop Rock | |
| And I ain' t getting any younger. | |
| My knuckles wear their bruises well. | |
| I' ve yet to lose that hunger, but only time can tell. | |
| Prodigal sun with a prodigal wish to sew that prodigal stitch and crucify bigot voodoo doll on two | |
| Popsicle sticks. | |
| See, your name is ambiguity. | |
| My name is something hands can' t hold but hearts part ocean scapes just to watch the starlet unfold | |
| It' s like sketching a circle in the dirt with a pointed stick knowing the wind' ll kill it some day, still it calms my burning wits for now. | |
| And if I plow the fields, that don' t guarantee plentiful harvest but starving artists die, so | |
| I set my alarm for five o' clock | |
| Idols block survival crops, the cycle stops for nothing | |
| The Bible squawks revival as winos flock by the hundreds to the opening. | |
| Scarlet carpets greeting the duel, leading the stubborn mule to cruel rug burn but y' all numb from gut fuel. | |
| I administer eclipse. | |
| Ain' t no motor like a martyr made motor ' cause a martyr made motor don' t quit. | |
| I am an epiphany. | |
| I am webbed foot mammal channel surfing my way to the top. | |
| Tugboat in a bottle with no holes poked in the nozzle | |
| I fed ' em bedlam diluted in limelight ' til that rookie boogie graduated hostile. | |
| Now the vehicle is grandeur and it veered over the median the second my halo ran outta helium. | |
| Demoted to thorn crown. | |
| Damn, talk about numbskull. | |
| I was born bound to a stencil called symmetry but my energy' s a rental. | |
| So I take this now to say, thank you se orita for holding a flame to a lost wick. | |
| Thank you | |
| James Anthony for the bandaids on my ego, y' all are family for life, | |
| I' ll take that bullet to preserve you. | |
| I wanna be something spectacular on the day the sun runs outta batteries. | |
| Attach my fashion to the casualties of anarchy. | |
| Save my nickels up to buy that homeless man a brand new horn, then sit up on his crate as a witness to beauty born like this... I ain' t gettin' any younger | |
| Horn samples to end |
| Yo, change the ing channel. | |
| I burn a coma candle. | |
| When the flame fades, consider my flat line a soldier sample. | |
| We them cats talking noise behind that | |
| New York trash heap where the stench of commuter briefcase replaces a bad sleep. | |
| And it' s the work of zigzaggers versus piggy badge flashers training generation fallout. | |
| Waterfall, bricklayer, pincushion crawl out. | |
| There' s smoke in my iris, but | |
| I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids so | |
| I' m ready now. What you ready for? | |
| I' m ready for life in this city and my wings have grown almost enough to lift me. | |
| I' m a dinosaur with | |
| Jones Beach in my hourglass passing the time with serial killer coloring books and bags of marbles. | |
| Don' t tell me you ain' t the droid that held the match to the charcoals. | |
| Don' t tell me | |
| Lucifer and | |
| God don' t carpool. This is our school | |
| I' m not trying to graduate to life with a personalized barstool, head in a jar on the desk, feet dangling in a shark pool. Man please | |
| Man please | |
| My name stands for my being and my being stands for the woman who stood and braved the storm to raise the seedling. Brother sun, sister moon, mother beautiful | |
| Yeah, middle sibling suitable but far from son of excellence. | |
| Beckoned a long time ago | |
| I was, to where the wishers wish but misers miss, | |
| I slept through my appointment. | |
| Saw the liquid dreams of a thousand babies solidify and picked a rose. | |
| It wilted the second | |
| I introduced myself as nervous. | |
| Well, it appears the scars of learning have spoken. | |
| Some are burning, some are frozen. | |
| Some deserve tall tales, some wrote ' em. | |
| Some are just a brutal repercussion of devotion. | |
| Mine are all of the above ' cause everything leads to erosion. | |
| Now where | |
| I live there' s a homeless man. | |
| He sits upon a crate | |
| Yeah, He makes a rusty trumpet sound like the music that angels make. | |
| Now if you ever come and visit me, | |
| I suggest you watch the show | |
| Tell him Aesop | |
| Rock sent ya just to hear his horn blow like this | |
| Horn samples Aesop Rock | |
| And I ain' t getting any younger. | |
| My knuckles wear their bruises well. | |
| I' ve yet to lose that hunger, but only time can tell. | |
| Prodigal sun with a prodigal wish to sew that prodigal stitch and crucify bigot voodoo doll on two | |
| Popsicle sticks. | |
| See, your name is ambiguity. | |
| My name is something hands can' t hold but hearts part ocean scapes just to watch the starlet unfold | |
| It' s like sketching a circle in the dirt with a pointed stick knowing the wind' ll kill it some day, still it calms my burning wits for now. | |
| And if I plow the fields, that don' t guarantee plentiful harvest but starving artists die, so | |
| I set my alarm for five o' clock | |
| Idols block survival crops, the cycle stops for nothing | |
| The Bible squawks revival as winos flock by the hundreds to the opening. | |
| Scarlet carpets greeting the duel, leading the stubborn mule to cruel rug burn but y' all numb from gut fuel. | |
| I administer eclipse. | |
| Ain' t no motor like a martyr made motor ' cause a martyr made motor don' t quit. | |
| I am an epiphany. | |
| I am webbed foot mammal channel surfing my way to the top. | |
| Tugboat in a bottle with no holes poked in the nozzle | |
| I fed ' em bedlam diluted in limelight ' til that rookie boogie graduated hostile. | |
| Now the vehicle is grandeur and it veered over the median the second my halo ran outta helium. | |
| Demoted to thorn crown. | |
| Damn, talk about numbskull. | |
| I was born bound to a stencil called symmetry but my energy' s a rental. | |
| So I take this now to say, thank you se orita for holding a flame to a lost wick. | |
| Thank you | |
| James Anthony for the bandaids on my ego, y' all are family for life, | |
| I' ll take that bullet to preserve you. | |
| I wanna be something spectacular on the day the sun runs outta batteries. | |
| Attach my fashion to the casualties of anarchy. | |
| Save my nickels up to buy that homeless man a brand new horn, then sit up on his crate as a witness to beauty born like this... I ain' t gettin' any younger | |
| Horn samples to end |
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