Song | Vonnegut Busy |
Artist | Sage Francis |
Album | Copper Gone |
[Intro:] | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are, "it might have been" | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are | |
[Hook:] | |
I like for my shoes to look like they've been walked in | |
My house to look like it's been lived in | |
My car to look like a coffin that's been driven off a cliff | |
My career like a non-stop graveyard shift | |
[Verse 1:] | |
Don't clean the crime scene cause time means money | |
Don't need visine when my eyes seem bloody | |
I see dead people, but who doesn't? | |
We walk undercover, deadpan blending in with other human puppets | |
Discussing nothing but the sports and weather | |
If I stare long enough they all morph together | |
Then I freak out, it'll blow my cover | |
So I just keep out, no, we don't know each other | |
I'm on the road to recovery, no GPS | |
Hoist in my sails ‘till the sea breeze rests | |
Suck wind if you wanna player hate | |
Day to day I use my fear of falling asleep to stay awake | |
I appear psychic-like, but I'm not a psychic | |
You're just predictable with no fight left to fight it | |
If you write it they will come with a red pen and a tazer-gun | |
Let's do something | |
[Hook] | |
[Verse 2:] | |
I sift through the ashes in search of surviviors | |
Digging up the Earth filling urns with dirt | |
For what it's worth I'm richer than the cemetary soil | |
I use slant drilling to get my midnight oil | |
I've been moonlighting as a daydreamer | |
I'm at the wheel of an eight-seater, (hey) hey mister gatekeeper | |
Call me key master, no, home owner | |
One, two and to the three and to the foreclosure | |
They said the war was over, but we know it wasn't | |
They wanted more soldiers so we said "sure, fuck it" | |
Here's a fresh batch of people with setbacks | |
The poor folk, in fact they’re all broke cause of your debt traps | |
Picking the pockets of people who probably needed assistance most | |
Selling them lies, selling them out, sending them off to a distant coast | |
Telling them anything anyone left with impossible debt is receptive to | |
Breaking a promise of negative worth like "buddy there's nothing left for you" | |
Gotta buy buy buy to stay alive, they punish the payment delayed | |
Then they charge you for the low balance then they ask "why didn't you save?" | |
Too long we took it on the chin, too long we took it to our grave | |
Now we take what we can get, fuck an unlivable minimum wage | |
Do something | |
[Bride:] | |
It might have been | |
(Do something) | |
It might have been | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are Vonnegut busy | |
Do it, do it - mess up my mind (Vonnegut busy) | |
Do it, do it - mess up my mind | |
[Verse 3:] | |
Sometimes I shoot myself in the foot, I put my foot in my mouth | |
Clean it while it’s there, and then i suck the bullet out | |
Reload the weapon, now that's conservation | |
Stay locked and loaded in a bad conversation | |
He making blank statements like the circles of your ammunition's finite | |
Visionary nothing, you're a man who lives with hindsigh | |
Return to the hive mind and call me back | |
I’m predicting early that you’ll be the Monday morning quarterback | |
So, cocksure in a culture that gangs up on bully-types | |
Mob mentality, as if that isn't what a bully's like | |
Inspiration strikes like an union | |
I write these lines just to cross 'em, I'm concluding | |
If my mama don't wanna she never has to work again | |
You never asked me why I spread myself so thin | |
I'm finna flirt dirty with the pen and flick my tongue on this bottom | |
I promise writer's block ain't never been a problem | |
I'll probably make the columns wanna pop bottles of pain relief | |
Sometimes it's what you don't say that says the most to say the least | |
Idle feet are the Devil’s fetish club | |
A highly exclusive spots none of us are members of | |
Dante is a scrub - we kicked him out the van and steamrolled him | |
In 2010 we had a couple dreams stolen | |
Me and B. Dolan relocked and reloaded | |
When it feels like you're going through hell, keep going | |
And as they say may the bridges that we burn light the way | |
[Hook] | |
[Outro:] | |
Do it, do it - mess up my mind | |
Do it, do it - mess up my mind | |
Vonnegut busy |
Intro: | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are, " it might have been" | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are | |
Hook: | |
I like for my shoes to look like they' ve been walked in | |
My house to look like it' s been lived in | |
My car to look like a coffin that' s been driven off a cliff | |
My career like a nonstop graveyard shift | |
Verse 1: | |
Don' t clean the crime scene cause time means money | |
Don' t need visine when my eyes seem bloody | |
I see dead people, but who doesn' t? | |
We walk undercover, deadpan blending in with other human puppets | |
Discussing nothing but the sports and weather | |
If I stare long enough they all morph together | |
Then I freak out, it' ll blow my cover | |
So I just keep out, no, we don' t know each other | |
I' m on the road to recovery, no GPS | |
Hoist in my sails ' till the sea breeze rests | |
Suck wind if you wanna player hate | |
Day to day I use my fear of falling asleep to stay awake | |
I appear psychiclike, but I' m not a psychic | |
You' re just predictable with no fight left to fight it | |
If you write it they will come with a red pen and a tazergun | |
Let' s do something | |
Hook | |
Verse 2: | |
I sift through the ashes in search of surviviors | |
Digging up the Earth filling urns with dirt | |
For what it' s worth I' m richer than the cemetary soil | |
I use slant drilling to get my midnight oil | |
I' ve been moonlighting as a daydreamer | |
I' m at the wheel of an eightseater, hey hey mister gatekeeper | |
Call me key master, no, home owner | |
One, two and to the three and to the foreclosure | |
They said the war was over, but we know it wasn' t | |
They wanted more soldiers so we said " sure, fuck it" | |
Here' s a fresh batch of people with setbacks | |
The poor folk, in fact they' re all broke cause of your debt traps | |
Picking the pockets of people who probably needed assistance most | |
Selling them lies, selling them out, sending them off to a distant coast | |
Telling them anything anyone left with impossible debt is receptive to | |
Breaking a promise of negative worth like " buddy there' s nothing left for you" | |
Gotta buy buy buy to stay alive, they punish the payment delayed | |
Then they charge you for the low balance then they ask " why didn' t you save?" | |
Too long we took it on the chin, too long we took it to our grave | |
Now we take what we can get, fuck an unlivable minimum wage | |
Do something | |
Bride: | |
It might have been | |
Do something | |
It might have been | |
Of all the words of mice and men | |
The saddest are Vonnegut busy | |
Do it, do it mess up my mind Vonnegut busy | |
Do it, do it mess up my mind | |
Verse 3: | |
Sometimes I shoot myself in the foot, I put my foot in my mouth | |
Clean it while it' s there, and then i suck the bullet out | |
Reload the weapon, now that' s conservation | |
Stay locked and loaded in a bad conversation | |
He making blank statements like the circles of your ammunition' s finite | |
Visionary nothing, you' re a man who lives with hindsigh | |
Return to the hive mind and call me back | |
I' m predicting early that you' ll be the Monday morning quarterback | |
So, cocksure in a culture that gangs up on bullytypes | |
Mob mentality, as if that isn' t what a bully' s like | |
Inspiration strikes like an union | |
I write these lines just to cross ' em, I' m concluding | |
If my mama don' t wanna she never has to work again | |
You never asked me why I spread myself so thin | |
I' m finna flirt dirty with the pen and flick my tongue on this bottom | |
I promise writer' s block ain' t never been a problem | |
I' ll probably make the columns wanna pop bottles of pain relief | |
Sometimes it' s what you don' t say that says the most to say the least | |
Idle feet are the Devil' s fetish club | |
A highly exclusive spots none of us are members of | |
Dante is a scrub we kicked him out the van and steamrolled him | |
In 2010 we had a couple dreams stolen | |
Me and B. Dolan relocked and reloaded | |
When it feels like you' re going through hell, keep going | |
And as they say may the bridges that we burn light the way | |
Hook | |
Outro: | |
Do it, do it mess up my mind | |
Do it, do it mess up my mind | |
Vonnegut busy |