This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
To be born as anything but this
The dying wish of a dinosaur's dish
Of no use, a shitty gift like a single slipper
I go diffuse in city quick like the little dipper
She's cute with little titties and a sense of humor
But to tell you the truth, sir
I pity the poor fool, her
Fruitless in a holster and clueless in a kiss
I'm older than death
Vulgar with unfresh breath
During sex I might put us in some joke positions
But it's scary always how we end up in mission
-Ary like the daring men who fight to submission
Barely conscious there to care about the split decision
Your sour thoughts you wield at me
You wring out your melon
But it yields only drops like an unripe lemon
All a man can understand is your bad intentions
The less you talk the more you draw and seal and ending
Keep leafing through the glossary
Sitting there puffing weed
Telling me repeatedly all the things you want to be
The thug's just a boy wants my money in the bags
Is your love but a ploy like Bugs Bunny in drag?
I leave my lungs open, exposed to the whole crew
While you sneak a bump and smoke cloves in the coat room
Itching like a local ho
Wishing like Pinocchio
The wind is at my back anew
But still I feel the lack of you
Oh, you were so heavy in my heart, boo
That soon no longer could my true heart hold you
And like the angular Etruscan tchotchke my mom got me
At the Met gift shop in '92
Tearing from the brown paper bag I kept it in when it was new
After I left it overnight and it was wet with dew
It sounds blue and shitty
But of course kid, like the little skinny bronze horse did
You fell through
You were like a buoy I put down in open ocean
But with no cross staff and no compass in my possession
And too far out for a lighthouse to provide discretion
How could I presume that you'd divine direction
Must have patience
Accept no imitations
Take no paper hearts and fucking hate carnations
Though my home is vacant
Yeah I'm lonesome while I wait
That's no open invitation made to hope we make acquaintance
The long walks home from the laundromat
In Pop-Pop's Holden Caulfield hat
Alone, lost for certain
Dry and pent
Dead bent like a merchant ivory gent
Yes, to yet get a spouse and kids
Have a house full
But I'm hard to be around
And sterile as a roused mule
Preemptive nostalgia of the possible but doubtful
Preemptive nostalgia of the possible but doubtful
And always something reminds me of you
The dying wish of a dinosaur's dish
Of no use, a shitty gift like a single slipper
I go diffuse in city quick like the little dipper
She's cute with little titties and a sense of humor
But to tell you the truth, sir
I pity the poor fool, her
Fruitless in a holster and clueless in a kiss
I'm older than death
Vulgar with unfresh breath
During sex I might put us in some joke positions
But it's scary always how we end up in mission
-Ary like the daring men who fight to submission
Barely conscious there to care about the split decision
Your sour thoughts you wield at me
You wring out your melon
But it yields only drops like an unripe lemon
All a man can understand is your bad intentions
The less you talk the more you draw and seal and ending
Keep leafing through the glossary
Sitting there puffing weed
Telling me repeatedly all the things you want to be
The thug's just a boy wants my money in the bags
Is your love but a ploy like Bugs Bunny in drag?
I leave my lungs open, exposed to the whole crew
While you sneak a bump and smoke cloves in the coat room
Itching like a local ho
Wishing like Pinocchio
The wind is at my back anew
But still I feel the lack of you
Oh, you were so heavy in my heart, boo
That soon no longer could my true heart hold you
And like the angular Etruscan tchotchke my mom got me
At the Met gift shop in '92
Tearing from the brown paper bag I kept it in when it was new
After I left it overnight and it was wet with dew
It sounds blue and shitty
But of course kid, like the little skinny bronze horse did
You fell through
You were like a buoy I put down in open ocean
But with no cross staff and no compass in my possession
And too far out for a lighthouse to provide discretion
How could I presume that you'd divine direction
Must have patience
Accept no imitations
Take no paper hearts and fucking hate carnations
Though my home is vacant
Yeah I'm lonesome while I wait
That's no open invitation made to hope we make acquaintance
The long walks home from the laundromat
In Pop-Pop's Holden Caulfield hat
Alone, lost for certain
Dry and pent
Dead bent like a merchant ivory gent
Yes, to yet get a spouse and kids
Have a house full
But I'm hard to be around
And sterile as a roused mule
Preemptive nostalgia of the possible but doubtful
Preemptive nostalgia of the possible but doubtful
And always something reminds me of you
Lyrics submitted by SisterCity, edited by Rose221, Malhavic
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Probably my favorite song off the new album.
Some corrections, to my ears:
I've no use a shitty gift like a single slipper -> Of no useless shitty gift like a single slipper
Like the dairymen who fight to submission -> Like the daring men who fight to submission
The less you talk the more you draw in seal and ending -> The less you talk the more you draw and seal an ending
And too far our for a lighthouse to provide discretion -> And too far out for a lighthouse to provide discretion (typo)
And sterile as a ? mule -> And sterile as a round mule
Not so sure on that one but I think it's referring to a merry-go-round.
I think you're right about daring men and seal/ending. I think the line is "Of no use, a shitty gift like a single slipper."<br /> <br /> I'm still not sure what the mule line is. Most mules are sterile based on how they're bred, so I don't think he's talking about a merry-go-round. I think he's just referring to a type of mule.
Roused mule. <br /> <br /> <br /> Also <br /> <br /> <br /> "The thugs just a boy wants my money in the bag"
"Like the daring men who fight to submission" not dairymen, haha<br /> <br /> Also, it is "sterile as a roused mule".<br />
I think Yoni has invented two new kinds of prose in this song:
1) The whole 'melon' and 'lemon' line. While they don't rhyme, they're anagrams.
2) The first time I heard (it was during the Yoni / Josiah solo tour before the album came out) the 'must have patience / accept no imitations / take no paper hearts and fucking hate carnations' I swore the line was 'must have inpatients....', which would work perfectly with the carnations line, but that would be too easy. Genius.
^the last one is "roused mule" i think, but those corrections are correct otherwise