Killjoy

[Intro] K-I-L-L-J-O-Y K-I-L-L-J-O-Y [Verse 1: Rob Sonic] Give me that, ahhhh Give me that Turtle Neck shirt, a Tin Pan Apple, a German Shepherd A wristband stand, and a lurching Red Bird, and more Braves than the Turner network Alive with a smile and a crazy cadence that flips out if it's face is shaven And Prince had all the names and places on the tops of the forties by the Casey Kasem No such luck in the silent scream, hope we die with the needle in the eye at least Like Jimmy Hart and the Iron Sheik doing the roll bounce, James and the Giant Peach Whole house like yeah he yells at us, gets fall down drunk but we help him up Does this thing where he points at his pelvic thrust, and he constantly speaks of Beelzebub Probably needs to adjust the voices in his head but instead he kind of just enjoys when They get upset and start pencil pointing at whoever fucking left with the best of Poison Boys being brought [what we] seven days, in the old world I'm told that the beds are made Out of headstones, bones and electric tape, now let the bodies hit the floor for the Feng Shui [Chorus] K-I-L-L-J-O-Y K-I-L-L-J-O-Y [Sample] It’s here, can’t you feel it? This whole room, everything is in color, and I can feel the air, I can see it, I can see all the molecules… How do you feel inside? [Verse 2: Aesop Rock] Cleverbots bounce out of boiling sea, and foil hats hack toys into Soylent Green Fat boy back wrapping his heart in bacon, part jarhead, part avatar of Satan All bargain basement, some get lost, some get six claws to crisscross the course In a town potmarked with potholes and pack dogs, half-wits rock with the not so Pavlov Ah break a player into polygons, it ain't fair it's a jobby job Another pet rock death to the shipwreck sweat box, coronary bastard, last word neck chop Knock, it was nosy neighbors in the safe house built with the bones of leaders There were basic tarp over stolen speakers, somewhere to weed out toking weasels Raised by Lycos, maybe an agent of darkness, still make art out of garbage Sleep in the arms of a hearty cartharsis, Sergeant of marginal progress March on cobwebs, no-headed poker face appear more like he broke a vase I'm okay no qualms, wait some qualms, too many paper mache front lawns