If I could wear a capsule 
Of all the world's hairline fracture
The biggest wig in the show
You sent me pulse from God knows where
Antenna has changed its air
From shortwave to ballistic cruise
Striking down your big premiere
Counterfeit counters have no more cheer
We're all lot lizards parked outside your door
Carried careless with repeat demerits
Menthol lights could not scare us
If takers are bums I own the slums
Of crosstalk bound by stirring tea
If could squeeze cents to pounds
Conversion rates buried in sound
Blasting from a car with blurry tags
The burnouts heard from parking lots
Of suburban box stores shut my mouth
Finally fired a bullet into my sleeve
Months break hands off the clock
I painfully flattened out a rock
Caught a home right into my throat
Carried careless from the birth of Ares
Menthol lights they could not scare us
If takers are bums I own the slums
Of crosstalk bound by stirring tea
I love the smell of jet bridge fumes
Before I board with the few
Group D vagabonds and their pimps
Finders fee for a losing spree
Candy drugstore fills holes in teeth
Always shit brained when I'm pissed
Carried careless from the tap so garish
Menthol lights could not scare us
If takers are bums I own the slums
Of crosstalk bound by stirring tea

Copyright: Mute Song Limited, O/B/O DistroKid
Writer(s): Ryley Walker