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[Verse 1: Milo] |
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Getting away from being pretty much away from it all |
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I'm reading Anis Mojgani poems in the bathroom stall |
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Someone can see my ankles |
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Keen eye for the sadness, pangs bro |
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I keep thinking of internet lovers trousers |
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Felt good like snow days when the driveway is plowed first |
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Let's promise each other Jefferson City Square Deals |
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And when friends come over we'll only cook fair trade meals |
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Unbutton the front of your shirt like Bob Fossil |
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I'm staring in the mirror for too long like Bob Rocksalt |
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Except Bob Rocksalt is a linguistic construct |
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The linguine's all fucked and it's my fault this time |
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David Lipsky can't write like this |
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When he bundles up his fingers it's a bright white fist |
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And he gets NPR reviews that say he just might exist |
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I'm jealous, subset of envy |
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Staring at his food while my plate has plenty |
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[Bridge: Milo] |
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If I was a necromancer I would bring back Foster Wallace |
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If I was a necromancer I would bring back my friend Robert |
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If I was a necromancer I would bring back Schopenhauer |
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If I was a necromancer I wouldn't be a fucking coward |
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[Verse 2: Milo] |
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I feel like Darius Rucker in a post-op world |
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Made myself an egg sandwich on the bread with the swirl |
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When I played basketball I couldn't never make a free throw |
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My step-sister cries out "Oh Bendito" |
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And I feel naked underneath this peacoat |
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They said I blew it and my forehead vein became prominent like Daniel Day Lewis |
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There will be blood and my veins are full of mud |
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And I'm counting down the days till the flood |
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Don't think I've seen her in a day |
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In the litany of ways I feel like Ian Mackaye |
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Indeed, I make a so-so lover |
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Regardless, I'm still the prince of cocoa butter |
