"Escape Artist" as written by and Scott Sumner Chris Rouleau....
(When I first got into magic yeah)

When I first got into magic it was an underground phenomenon
Now everybody's like pick a card, any card
If I shot my full load with the first hand I played
I'd be a monkey in a box
Hangin' with the David Blaines
I'd be swimming with the sharks
Smiles full of razor blades
But I'm not
I got outta that game
Escape Artist
I talked till I'm red in my face
With strange califs
I rocked till I'm outta my range
Then raised octaves
I played through the pain
And remained conscious
Refraining from commenting on the lame compliments
And the petty criticisms from those who ain't accomplished
Even one-fifths of some of this shit
I made progress with
I'm leavin' naysayers stumped like rain forests
After years of pullin' rabbit ears out my pants pockets
I'm not revealing any tricks of the trade
Its just there ain't no magic in the break down baby

In an effort to make them more secret I find in my life I decided to give them a look
Now I'm givin' them a glimpse and I guess I'm sittin' in the middle of an unread book
Letters are falling apart but the sentencess end and run of the wording is permanent
Never been missed
Suckers been missed
What did you miss
Interpreted is
Funny I'm serving the sentence of solitary confinement
Results in a death sentence and still I'm a running assignment
I'm just wondering where my time went
It pulled a disappearing act
And every single assistant I ever had got stored in half

Cause see I never payed attention but I can't afford to laugh (word?)
Cause I'm lookin' through my book
And an autograph from my cats (Ok)
And I'm short on staff
So all I ask is volunteers from the crowd
Show a little bit of audience participation now!
When I say hip (what do I say)
You, you say shut the fuck up we ain't sayin' shit
And I'll respect it (yes!)
Check it
In a flair for the dramatic exit
A fashoinable entrance late to my own arraignment
(Oh) The self-destructive things that I do for entertainment
My folks gave me this art
You're broken heart is my pallet
While I was out honin' my craft
You were disownin' your talent
Cause while you still live at home
And I bought this house off my parents (uhh)
I'm gettin' ahead of myself (I'm gettin' ahead of myself)
I see the hair on my back (I see the hair on my back)
I'm On the Road reading Kerouac
His poems versus better raps
I think to myself (I think to myself)
What's worth remembering
Versus defending
The size of my manhood
Or confessional canned goods

In an effort to make them more secret I find in my life I decided to give them a look
Now I'm givin' them a glimpse and I guess I'm sittin' in the middle of an unread book
Letters are falling apart but the sentencess end and run of the wording is permanent
Never been missed
Suckers been missed
What did you miss
Interpreted is
But none of this is gettin' told in confidence I reckon
I spin confidential records just to hold the listeners attention

I'm a veteran of spacial relationships
I clip your wings to fit you in
Headshrinking magician
Shapeshifting reptilian
Turned body contortionist
Orphanages started offering tortures to abortion clinics (abortion clinics)
I lost aquantances
And a morgue of lady friends
I gender bent the heaven sent angelic devil boy
Good Gods adrogenous
I'm lookin' marvelous
But looks can kill
And they're unsure about my sexual orientation still
Put me in a special kind of case that only breaks if
You hit it with a bouqet of flowers and baby breath arrangement
The vault is vacant
And they're all looking for phone call blame
I called my agent
The moment that I caught the train
I let him know that I'm goin' nowhere
He's invited
If he leaves tonight then he might just help me find it
But this is my burden to bear
Not his
And I'm a psychic without a sidekick
Holding the future hostage
A loose cannon standing on the rooftop with
A new respect and understanding of bartenders and locksmiths
They call me daredevil
But I'm not precise enough
Unprofessional
On an amateur level
I love my life too much

Escape Artist (x4)
(Escape, escape)

Escape Artist
I'm in two places at once
Escape Artist
But I ain't slept in months
Escape Artist
Just tryin' to get away
But there ain't no magic in the breakdown baby

Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby
No magic in the break
Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby
(x3 and continues as Sage speaks)

Pussies
You're scared to shoot me in the heart
You know it's too big!
Uhh!
Yeah, Fuck you
I gotta bulletproof heart
Hit it baby
I'll never fall in love with you
Ever!
If you got glass so long too
Biyatch shut up

Make some noise for Sage Francis y'all


Lyrics submitted by ScottXcore

"Escape Artist" as written by Scott Sumner Chris Rouleau

Lyrics © JET-EYE MUSIC, INC.

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Escape Artist song meanings
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6 Comments

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  • +1
    General CommentWrong. All wrong:

    When I first got into magic
    It was an undrground phenomenon
    Now everybody's like
    "Pick a card, any card"
    If I shot my full load with the first hand I played
    I'd be a monkey in a box hangin with the David Blaines
    I'd be swimming with the sharks
    Smiles full of razorblades
    But I'm not
    I got out of that game, escape artist
    I talk til I'm red in my face with strained polyps
    I'll rock till I'm out of my range then raise octaves
    I play through the pain and remain conscious
    Refraining from commenting on the lame compliments
    And the petty criticisms from those who ain't accomplished
    Even one fifth of some of the shit I made progress with
    I'm leaving nay-sayers stumped like rainforests
    After years of pulling rabbit ears out my pants pockets
    I'm not revealing any tricks of the trade
    It's just there ain't no magic in the breakdown, baby:

    In an effort to make them all see what I found in my life I decided to give em a look
    None of them give it a glimpse and I guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book
    Letters are falling apart but the sentences stand on their own and the wording is permanent
    Never been missed
    I've just been misworded and misinterpreted it's
    Funny how serving the sentence of solitary confinement
    Results in the death sentences filling my writing assignment
    I'm just wondering my time went, it pulled a disappearing act
    And every single assistant I ever had
    Got sawed in half

    Cause they never paid attention, but I can't afford to laugh
    Cause I'm looking for my break and an autograph for my cast
    But I'm short on staff so all I ask is volunteers in the crowd
    Show a little bit of audience participation now:

    When I say "HIP"
    You, you say "SHUT THE FUCK UP, WE AIN'T SAYING SHIT"
    And I respect it

    Check it, in a flare for the dramatic exit
    A fashionable entrance, late to my own arrangement, oh
    The self-destructive things that I do for entertainment
    My folks gave me this art, your broken heart is my pallette
    While I was out honing my craft
    You was disowning your talent
    That's why you still live at home
    And I bought this house of my parents

    I'm getting ahead of myself
    I see the hair on my back
    I'm on the road reading Kerouac
    It's poems vs. battle raps

    I think to myself:
    "What's worth remembering? Verses defending the size of my manhood or confessional canned goods?"

    In an effort to make them all see what I found in my life I decided to give em a look
    None of them give it a glimpse and I guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book
    Letters are falling apart but the sentences stand on their own and the wording is permanent
    Never been missed
    I've just been misworded and misinterpreted it's
    Funny how serving the sentence of solitary confinement
    Results in the death sentences filling my writing assignment
    But none of this is gettin told in confidence I reckon
    I spin confidential records just to hold the listener's attention

    I'm a veteran of spatial relationships
    Clip your wings to fit you in, headshrinking magician
    Shapeshifting reptillian turned body contortionist
    Orphanages started offering torches to abortion clinics
    I lost acquaintances, in a morgue of lady friends
    I genderbent the heavensent angellic devil boy
    This god's androgynous

    I'm looking marvelous
    But looks can kill
    And they're unsure about my sexual orientation still
    They put me in a special kind of case
    That only breaks if
    You hit it with a bouquet of flowers and baby breath arrangements
    The vault is vacant
    And they're all looking for phone call blame
    I called my agent
    The moment that I caught the train
    I let him know that I'm goin' nowhere
    He's invited
    If he leaves tonight then he might just help me find it
    But this is my burden to bear
    Not his
    And I'm a psychic without a sidekick
    Holding the future hostage
    A loose cannon standing on the rooftop with
    A new respect and understanding of bartenders and locksmiths
    They call me daredevil
    But I'm not precise enough
    Unprofessional
    On an amature level
    I love my life too much

    Escape Artist (x4)
    (Escape, escape)

    Escape Artist
    I'm in two places at once
    Escape Artist
    But I ain't slept in months
    Escape Artist
    Just tryin' to get away
    But there ain't no magic in the breakdown baby

    Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby
    No magic in the break
    Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby
    (x3 and continues as Sage speaks)
    brain_stewon December 27, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentI think, and I may be wrong, that this is about Sage escaping from the boxes and labels he's put in. From the battle raps in his youth, to the introspective poseur label. He's always trying to break out and keep it real.
    Sireneon May 17, 2005   Link
  • 0
    General CommentI'm pretty sure it's "And every single assistant I ever had got sawed in half", not "stored in half". It makes a lot more sense with the magician motif.
    Down623on July 03, 2005   Link
  • 0
    General CommentHe's pretty much relating his career in rap to the life of a magician, with the sweet and sour of it all.
    "When I first got into magic it was an underground phenomenon Now everybody's like pick a card, any card" if you can decifer some of the lyrics throughout the song you can see his meaning changes.
    "Unprofessional On an amature level I love my life too much" might refer to him staying underground
    twilight2007on March 06, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentNo kidding; thanks for submitting the correct lyrics. I was looking at this song and going, "Wtf is that what Sage is really saying?" Although I agree with the others on how this song could be about Sage fighting through oppression to break through his shell and pursue his real dream: hip-hop, although I'm still left wondering on why he's comparing it to one of a magicians.
    BlckDethon December 28, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General Commentwhen I say hip
    you, you say shut the fuck up we ain't sayin' shit


    haahaha funny shit
    HomerunHenryon November 09, 2009   Link

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