Busdriver - Jhelli Beam Handfuls Of Sky

Lyrics

The water-retention in the bogged down pickled
Outweighs the REM in one-eyed pistoleers
Oscillating lung sacs, cheek-pinching fun facts
Coloring the grosses in the fiscal year
I’ve never been a shoe just the gluten in the monkey bread
Sucked up in the union turn my dues in with the monthly pledge
Breaking the Rosetta Stone, shouting on the megaphone
I turn a burning bushel to a mucky hedge
They’re looking for a minion of idle hands to instruct
And I’m the battery-powered deflowered nimbus
Set aside my prized glum in gentrified fiefdom
I street perform in peak form with a tin cup
Please lift the sanctions that demonize the yellowcake
On your tongue the watergun is pointed at your elbow brace
Baby safe the bumper cars, broadcast the color bars
As I tie you to the railroad stakes

When I overrule all of the nutritional facts
I can scale walls
Get your shit flushed when I bit-crush the Britannica
And unveil drawls
When I overrule all of the nutritional facts
I can scale walls
Get your shit flushed when I bit-crush the Britannica
And unveil drawls
They wanted a Moulin Rouge and some bullion cubes
But we jettisoned all that by the megaton
Now they’ve got their Oolong brews and their futon stools
And a reticent sun

So I’m turning on the water works
Cutting through the modern murk
Knee-deep in a pot of dirt
To render handfuls of sky
Turning on the water works
Shunned where founding fathers lurk
Knee-deep in a pot of dirt
To render handfuls of sky
Cowering in firefights
Stepping over fly-by-nights
Contrary to prior plights
I render handfuls of sky

The mounting momentum of the bubbling electorate
Favors neo-Nazi-ism in the house pet chorus
Throw the medicine ball, divvy up the windfall
Fit the trophy wife for the wet corset
I go from a hug to an open-ended cartwheel
That’s how I vivisect the dinner guest at the arms deal
Breathing with a suck/slurp, I scrutinize the bloodwork
Of the greenthinkers and no cars yield
Pointing out all the freckles on the darkroom negs
To carbon date a marketplace full of bootlegs
Bottle zygote nog, for all the roadhogs
Matching in White, Blue, Red
You can not triangulate the angles of this paragon
You are not a G at all you work at a hair salon
When you raise the hot comb, I will move to Stockholm
Till the soil to put a parish on

When I do away with questionable motherfuckers
I can outsource sorcery…

They wanted a Moulin Rouge and some bullion cubes
But we jettisoned all that by the megaton
Now they’ve got their Oolong brews and their move on dot org’s