Corn Maze

I'm the world weekly news bat child

B-lining ash pile to ash pile to ash pile

For every ghost climbing out the flat file

Every gaff, every lone spaz in a snack aisle

Cracked out, don’t touch that dial ever

These trap doors forecast quagmire weather

But it's worth it

From cobras out to kiss him on the cheek

To snatching victory from out the jaws of imminent defeat

The phone ping from a pillow fort in a corn maze

I don't have a horse in ya war games

I don’t even really like horses

I like wild orchids and neighbors with wide orbits

Electric fence and pets that tend to pretty much ignore us

We headbutt in the mornings then report to separate corners

Criminy ya killin' me Smalls, the fist balls up

I pull my hood down, I got some walls up

Walls up

I keep my coat on I got some walls up

Chips down, walls up

I cut the lights off

Every day I wake up in a gallon of sweat

Puke blood, hit the shower, turn to Malibu Ken

While you were asking all your lackeys "are we jackals or men?"

I've been the sorcery authority should catch if they can

Mostly a master of none

Come try the coffee it's burnt

He tip a chapter it sucks

Top of the mothian world

Pick a one horse town, four horsemen got his number

I feed each one the others camouflaged in Fluffernutters

The million dollar free jazz speak in a secret garden

Some people think it's freakish

But they can't deny the harvest

It's funny when they're later made

To celebrate the **** they said was garbage

It only show the city who the mark is

Are we Donatello’s David or delicate frozen Charlottes

Even Davids know an Arthur often will be no catharsis

The voices in my head still talk tough

I go to bed stoned I got some walls up

Walls up

I keep my coat on I got some walls up

Chips down, walls up

I cut the lights off

In a lavish rabbit hole with no rabbits

Young dumb dust bunnies jump into traffic

Casually gussied up and done feeling unsung and savage

Punk we have come for your cabbage

I’m bad news travel like a rat through your cabinet

Spaz

Twenty paw pads full of scabs

Often a false ad full plaid all dander

Blast off black jackdaws on his antlers

Zero faithers

Wearily fear his neighbors

Some day we'll find a way to make these billionaires obey us

Some day we’ll earn a subdivision gaudier than reprobates

Who sit around impressed and guess the order of the Tetris rain

With biblical as reckoning

Son of surly Satan torn asunder

Private number, public urination

We socialize with pundits who encompass all the wrong stuff

I count the bread quick, I got some walls up

Walls up

I keep my coat on I got some walls up

Chips down, walls up

I cut the lights off