Castles - CunninLynguists, Sadistik, Aesop Rock

Oh, yeah

(«You will fall, the castles you keep»)

It’s time they come down—down

«—castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep

We will sleep»

He said, «Fuck sobriety, death to the worker bees»

Thirteen circles I’ve stepped for eternity

Burning purple, stressed on a murder spree

It’s self-inflicted, don’t get it twisted

These knives in my back now, Elliott Smith (yeah)

Rides in the background, melodies fit (yeah)

Mixed with the misfits, fixes the hurt

When the lips that I kiss with press to the dirt

French-kiss vixens, distant and cursed

Burned bridges occurred from scriptin' my words

Word, so I’ll chisel a verse

On these lie-filled halls that I’ve lived in and searched

I’m still lost in a head of catacombs

Cause I build walls like I’m Edgar Allan Poe

I’ve killed off every damsel that I know

For castles that I keep, castles that I know

«—castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep

We will sleep»

I’m having spirits in the dark, laying under moonlight

Laughing with a stranger, like I saved her from her doomed life

Pop a couple Percs, a perk of anonymity

Trapped within a curse that I created with my energy

A path that I rehearse, a cycle on repeat

Life is like a lion and I’m dying at its feet

I roll another sweet, check my muted Treo

I’ve seemed to miss the plot, too busy caught up in the B-roll

My eye up to the keyhole, scared to turn the knob

And go out on my own, instead I blend in with the mob, my

Memory bank’s the only thing I tend to rob

And every time I phone the lob, I’m out of dodge

It’s hard, on the boulevard, and other clichés

The type of bullshit that I’m feeding self these days

Corrosion on my relays, one thing my mirrors chose

An imp in new clothes, exposed

«—castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep

We will sleep»

I mow a dead lawn, aim for the alpha

Ten claws deck the halls of Valhalla

Not a man, a receptacle for crest-fallen matter

Never tempered or pressed into patterns

But just won’t die, instead a palpitation from the plasma

Pumping disenchanting anecdotes and antiquated data at 'em

I get these headaches that climb down into my stomach

Then off into my extremities and out into the public

In a flood of shadow puppetry, something in the air

Got a tiny pool of energy becoming self-aware

It’s recognizing family and alphanumeric characters

Scenery and deities with unassuming avatars

Close encounters exacerbate his condition

From classy to a bastion of classic misdirection

Tune into the Casio adventures

When the rest of me can barely form a god-damn sentence

«—castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep»

«Clean them, sell them»

«His castle we will keep

We will sleep»