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letra de suburbia remix - deadpan

[verse]
three generations engrained in a single duplex
papa’s the sous-chef, moving soufflés
cops enthused, scent wafting through
bake sale in the backyard next doomsday
come through, underwater wading through a blue state
sibilant screams and slithering screams
center-stage behind the school’s gates
incarcerated ink, not prison tats, when it starts to fade to pink
on the brink of the partnership that’s been split in half
partially wasteful and ought to be hateful to skip the path
kid in the middle of life isn’t dirigible, right?
think, it’s hard to face the things not getting taxed
stomach full? envision that
empty local club with an 850 credit score cover
’08 hollister-packed closet, follow the math
two fits for four brothers
no taste, father stoned, snapped the twig, bled war from it
torn threads, pour honey over warm suffering, needs more loving
store-brand fascism
survival of the richest, hiding in the kitchen
writhe in indecision, not a tiny minute i’ve been optimistic
flying in a pit of pious, picky giants, crying, whining, kidding
blind to shivering and simple sh-t until decline is immanent
i’m fine, in intermittent times i’m kicking it
and probably giggling, and, ah!
just a crater-faced, baby-fat kid, straight a’s, better learn your lesson
blade belt buckle, bl–dy boots, brandishing a murder weapon
perfect etiquette for death threats, next step?
shirk suspension while we bet on scattergories in the hallway
wager my life all day
gutsy move, double down in the dumps, chum
at this rate, there’s no happy path to forty, right?
living in a minuscule, ghoulish ethno-state is it through yet?
foolish question to my therapist wearing a big, back the blue crewneck

- deadpan

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