Mixtape One

Don't tell me that the west has won; we worked hard to reverse that notion. Closer than anyone, but we're not for each other, no: I've got to crack my eyes to watch the wind blow. Cat's Cradle is a fable, we all know that. Soon as I can I will slide that under the table. I met your mother and you father & I liked them; they bicker the way we bicker, the way we bicker. A black cat just snuck up on me; activities and distractions are my remedy. You're writing by lamp light, you're writing by the moon rise: a stark contrast to the Montclairian buzz skies. Cat's Cradle is a fable, we all know that. Soon as I can I will slide that under the table. I met your mother and you father & I liked them; they bicker the way we bicker, back when our blood was thicker than oil & the soil was in every spark & every pore & everything. My departure made my nerves sting. It's leaving a person place or thing you know you shouldn't. On jet lag: I'm past that. Plainly, none of this is that bad. He said, "let me be clear this woman's crazy." I caught a glimpse of your truth as you turned to me & it was kind & it was stubborn, just like I'd like mine to be so I will dissuade, I will just sleep. I can be patient, probably.

I'm in bed for days with a toothache. I've been dead for days. Oo.oO in the summertime. Oo.oO when I'm so inclined. I'm in bed for days with a toothache. I've been dead for days. Oo.oO in the summertime. Oo.oO when I'm so inclined. Oo.oO you're that jagged line: you're my heartbeat. You're my heartbeat! I flip the on-switch, I mark where I tread! I put the sand in my, I put the sand in my bed!

the night my necklace fell off you fluttered through my capillaries like a stone moth i agree with your ideas but not your tactics so look me in the eye & be practical when practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do it’s only up to you a live ladybug trapped between my toes: keep it together man we’re all connected now stay composed i agree with your ideas but not your tactics so look me in the eye & be practical when practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do it’s only up to you the current picture: the metronome; i don’t know what this is but it’s not my home i thought that we were falling in love but we weren’t; only i was i agree with your ideas but not your tactics so look me in the eye & be practical when practically there’s nothing left for me to say or do it’s only up to you

Rolling on his back like an ocelot crawling on his stomach you make the lids stick together nothing really bugs me out nothing really bugs me. Tightening the slack on the millimeter tape trudging through your stomach I make the walls split forever nothing really bugs me out nothing really bugs me anymore. I've had enough. Now we're on the same page. Circling the gap like you don't know what you hold drying out my knuckles you tucked it between the folds nothing really bugs me out nothing really bugs me. Recycling the cans at the center by the boxcars we've been carving little symbols in the bark nothing really bugs me out nothing really bugs me out. So let it go: there's nothing I could tell you that you don't already know.