Slinging Our Times

Hey where'd that color go, we're dull and modern Staring into drains and weather vanes My trophy broke my knuckles drag My meter's off my refresh rates lag It's like a mausoleum in that bedroom White stone walls and gilded halls Ringing a bell from the shadows of my royal birth Milking maidens and shining mirrors Stocking gun powder and turning everything louder Bartering with conjoined twins and necrophiliacs Stacking up racks of black masks Getting ready or getting lucky Normalizing hormonal atonement Sucker punching our purest opponent Arms out, eyes ablaze, speaking in tongues Wrapped in rugs, partially consumed by another room Meditating in a basement jail Exiled ex-expert no longer relevant Deceptive pond reflection It's likely a fairy tale we put up for sale Forty dollars for an ending Fifty dollars for a hero One hundred dollars and you come home To a stone embankment Old women say thanks but no thanks They're thankless Still painting clouds and making rounds And I'm rounding the rotunda Gesturing at fresco Fingers tracing, elevating Offering you two choices Offering you two choices C'mon let's go You have nerves of steel You have valid opinions You have moxie for days You have a habit of winning You have a calm demeanor You have a thousand yard stare You have electrified teeth You have medusa-like hair You have nerves of steel You have valid opinions You have moxie for days You have a habit of winning You have a calm demeanor You have a thousand yard stare You have electrified teeth You have medusa-like hair But there's only cold cuts There's a bucket of cream Oh, you're that second mouse darling If you know what I mean Tapping on the glass, it reflects back You're your own animal it's obvious And you're still stealing my scenes And we spiral up the stairs To the spire in the sky Slowly shuffling our stories To the patchwork paperboy Slinging our times And the nomads thunder out beyond the quarry's lip Negotiating with this silence For an opportunity to strip And each lesson learned folds in on itself You stroke your beard and she plays with herself Then a meter maid hunches over And rubs a kiss on your nerves You have whiplash mania You have a broken chain of command You have those white gardenias You have those outdated plans You have heavy eyelids You have a bull in a cage You have my sincere attention You have the world's last slave You have ten million colors You have a permanent grin You have some starlight romance You have my original sins