Bats - The Uncluded

My feet hang off of every bed I ever slept on

Catch less Z’s more f-bombs (Fuck)

Invaders from the north brought a body in the trunk

With four coal eyes ushering a Jonestown flood

Two known, two dumbstruck

Plain clothes sputter in

A strange home spine-chilling cluster to unfuck

Sup sup Austin, I know little magic

No checked bags show up with the most baggage

Fresh hell dragging old hell up from holed rabbits

Who mangle emotion in gross patterns

No carrots, only rumors of a bridge that flickered with black scallops

And float pine out the bathtub of crass maggots

(Bats)

1 point fuckin' 5 schmillion

A number undermining how they duck and dive different

And I was waiting for an hour and I merely saw six

Some thought it was a bust, I thought it was the shit

I watched the videos and hung out with his friends and hugged his mama

And it’s clear to me this kid’s the Minnesota Dalai Lama

And the llama twist his tongue

To create a perfect rhyme

Whether freestyled or preconceived to spit that shit out at your mind

And your mind’s rind peels back revealing

Every dead friend on the back of a little black bat

So you stand and you wait at the top of the bridge

Only six fly out and return to where they hid

So you wait and you wait and you never wanna leave

‘Cause 1.5 million bats is what you need to see to grieve

1.5 million bats is what you think you need

But 6 is enough to receive a little peace

‘Cause every little bit counts

In times of death and disorder

You look for shooting stars

In the reflection of the water

And you open the gifts that you didn’t expect

On the birthdays of the dead friends that are stuck in your head

Like love, and hugs and songs and rage

And the keys that you needed to unlock your heart’s cage

The ability to put the pen back to the page

The heat beneath your feet to propel you on stage

The beat that completes your shit these days

Yeah the beat that completes your shit these days

Yeah the beat that completes your shit these days

BATS

BATS

The post cards coast from a recurring force field

Pickling his demons with the prematurely door-nailed

Never play Taps on a short-scale

Played dream wars with coffins and chalkboard nails

Sore thumb

All played the corner of the salt lick

K’ll say, «The people you are meeting know what loss is»

Twenty in, I’m on the patio with forceps

Wig split, sorting what amount to little war heads

Yadda yadda stop

Tell me about your homie

The quote that would open a can of bogeys

In the form of stolen roman candle stories

Wild youth clipped

From a tether plus my alive friends are even deader

Is a little folk singer who has run out of chords

Like a big bad lion who has lost its roar?

Coming in like a lambchop

Out like a lyin' shame

I got Gunther Gabel- Williams

Tryna tame my brain

With a flick of the wrist and a crack of the whip

I said, «If that’s all you got

You ain’t got shit»

‘Cause for free birds like me

The possibilities are endless

Try to put me in a box

I will be relentless

In my pursuit of lots of different kinds of things

You can clip my toe nails but

You can’t clip my wings

BATS

BATS

I know about your brother

I will bring him to the bridge

If the colony is hiding, we will lift him on the six

Knife in the road

Scalp in his mitten

Glass house, decal of Calvin pissin---

A proud Fugee of the foul cow tip cow system

Triple crown clip, never trickle down bread crumbs

Goofus over Gallant

Mill about head shrunk

Thread a symphony of krill and killer clown redrum-wretch

If you ever woke up feeling future-proof

Precious brothers in effect and rooting for the future you

Speaking of the future us

Twin City morning

Broke a wiper on a rental tryna grin away the gory

Wait, new game: smuggle bats on a plane

Wait — newer game: tie the whole bridge to his frame

I will drag these bricks

Over lake and law

Shake 1.5 out over St. Paul

Just knowing poetry and mathematics get involved

Any total ain’t a quota more a draw

Don’t count shit

First sign of leathery wings

You throw them devil horns up yelling heavenly things

See I started this life

As a nappy buckwheat flapjack

Flipping on the shiny white backs of the backpack

A princess, a jock, a brain, a freak

Now I’m a fucking rebel I’m a little of each

And I’m not ashamed of all the different parts of me

And I like cross-pollinating the communities

Because divided we’re cool

But together we conquer

Like monsters and grouches

And humans and honkers

And if you’re close to my age, then you were raised on the street

With a Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip in front of your TV

And our generation’s gotta do it differently

‘Cause we got new ideas and new abilities

Is that an old-fashioned funeral?

ew — change the station

I’d rather tune in for a life celebration

Say good bye with dance parties and say good bye with shows

‘Cause that somber-ass shit’s not the way I wanna go

Put your hands in the air

Feel your dead friend’s presence

Wrap and unwrap pack no resentments

With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge

And we’re summoning the bats so we can live

With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge

And we’re summoning the bats so we can live