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