Bodyslam - Jam Baxter

Still got the six legged beast in my ear

All piling up and I’m just leaving them here

My finger slipped and I deleted the year

Shut your eyes and the streets will appear

We spent your nights surrounded by screaming toddlers

With little toy dinosaurs lodged in your esophagus

Trying to mute the murmurs of these Xanny brick philosophers

Stubby legs restrained by a hundred screaming officers

I’ve always been the kid, with the melting burning body

With a bag of Polish vodka strolling out the Turkish offy

Got gremlins in my skull around the clock working on me

While the devil in an apron does the rounds serving coffee

It’s like dark past, dig it up, scrub it down, pure smut

One man sweatshop, sewing every jaw shut

The games like, one of them, weird chicks we all fuck

Sit back, feel the rush, drugs like a warm hug

Yeah… You were cemented as a goon

Since the womb coughed you out into the tentacles of doom

And that giant shiny fishhook descended from the moon

Wormed its way into your jaws and then swept you from the room

Yeah

These cunts all came at once

Stood my ground it was your choice to flee

The fuel gauges all point to E

You’re all Wimbledon ball boys to me

They came fresh from a string of their poor performances

I’m struggling to bank all the fivers I snort your auras with

And I don’t care how many little children sing your choruses

We liquidise them all and spit them out into an orphanage

Fuck it all, back me on a couple more shots

You learn to love the taste of warm blood in your scotch

All my villains keep your head, protect your skull at all costs

And I’d tell you I love you but the drugs have worn off

I’ve figured out the trick to everlasting mental health

And it’s if you go insane abroad don’t film it all yourself

Spend a couple missing months becoming someone else

Sneaking off into the pharmacy to clear a whole shelf

…yeah.

Stationary passengers speed by

The young child empties a uzi in each eye

The message on the giant blimp circling the game read

«Cough up.

No such thing as a free high»

For real?

Well, pour me out the rest of your reserves

Rack your rations up and stick a couple ounces on my tab

I said it with a sense of false entitlement bred

Like a bulging eyed Chihuahua in a thousand dollar bag

You were just a prune fingered thief in every shoobs

Sneaking up behind the crew to jack your head up off your neck

And I was in the airborne regiment freefalling through the roof

To bodyslam your record off the deck…

Still got the six legged beast in my ear

All piling up and I’m just leaving them here

My finger slipped and I deleted a year

Shut your eyes and the streets will appear