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letra de living curfew - aesop rock

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[verse 1: aesop rock]
golden hours like mom tripping
“you come down here right this instant!”
sits on the front step, chips and a sunkist
dumb for a sun-kissed brick or pikmin
i cl!ck, cl!ck, it’s difficult to pick one
have to pick the wisdom in a particular condition
like plain old birds in the same old food fight
rebranded and draped in a good light
boat break from a day at the bull fight
oughta come pray in the radiant bullseye
i don’t blame y’all, the force awakened
so i’m flatbush avenue forest-bathing
blood pressure ain’t a touch extra
my cholesterol back to nothing special
skin clear and my legs strong
and my spine fused and migraine gonе
and bodega spangled in a merе thirty five
octillion lumens at a low angle
through incense smoke from a folding table
it’s basically nature’s stolen cable
til it ain’t
time is a pick to the ice
right when you chilling it be chipping at the vibe
most tip a hat and slip into the hive but i dip into the grid
rats sniffing out the mines, like
[verse 2: aesop rock]
nightfall is like pop wiling
it’s coming in hot, try not to fight it
that helicopter, that 5-0 siren
cb squawking “find me those vice grips”
a mean brian eno mixtape, an ego lifeless
drift in the eye of the side quest
the sign read please don’t feed the wildlife
unless throwing meat to mislead the night shift
son this is whirlwind country
a world flushed from the brush pen of kim jung gi swirling
junkyard tires and loveseats
and house pets all swept up in the one beast, i love y’all
bring your adult t–th and move with the lows
a pulse and a juice for the pulp
midnight, pushing up seed, katamari
vs. little old me and what army? huh…?
loser/weeper, in the wee hours, speaking to mu in the ether
i can see him in a earth tone ‘lo hat
and throwback shoes like guess who at easter
i can bounce ideas off an angel or demon
or any other brand of cthulhu
i can rinse in the ambient wind
but i can’t relate the intangibles to you

[hook: aesop rock]
crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like
crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like
crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like
crystals in the handle of my hammer to the anvil like
[verse 3: billy woods]
i walk this city strictly witching hours
feeling dangerous, feeling like i gave you power
trees rustle in they sleep, wildlife scurry to feed
it’s a light on in the tower
shadows move in a deep smile, rows of redundant t–th
they can see you’s a coward
street lamps is buoys in oceans of black
i’m swimming on my back
the moon but a yellow piece of crack in the firmament
peer into the dark copernicus
fellow travelers pass tense
wondering if it’s our turn in the tournament
every morning on the steps with my little herb
every morning a mad woman come through feeding the birds
walking crazy fast, tossing fistfuls of bread
might as well be feeding the rats, but the rats already well-fed
fentanyl in the pack, if they could they’d come back
from the dead and buy it again
i remember when nights was ambulance sirens
watchin’ ’em put bodies inside ’em
sometimes somebody outside willing
on empty streets dead silent
half empty stores scared to breathe
i sit on steps now with my lil’ weed
i walk the long way around the ‘jects
them brothers is looking a little lean
i’m taciturn on the strip, i get my sh-t, turn, and i leave
pachyderm, i never forget the faces of thieves
head full of worms, some days it’s bees
some mornings the air feels clean
i can see her coming, trundling down the block
then stopped, picked a dead bird off the curb
stuffed it in her bag
t–th barely bared when she hurried past

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