Saturn Missiles Lyrics - Skelethon - Aesop Rock

If you step on the lawn I keep the foot 

Peep, in the pot go 6 degrees of cooked geese 

Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas 

Over 10 meat hooks with a blister each 

I'm all pincher, fever-y hoodie on, hoodie off 

Sweat thru his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls 

Never met a quiet storm that didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns that go click click clack 

In territorial syntax 

Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back 

Pinball wiz in a thimble of sims 

I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged 

Kiss me I'm dead, nursing a mystery Dayquil 

Led Zep staring daggers down page mill 

How pray tell do he sit pretty when the ol' 1 2 unglue in a tizzy 

Please hold for the don't play dull boy 

Click, I am not a page or a pull toy 

Came in the door and the floor is lava 

Killjoy if your core more Norman Rockwell 

Born home sick for an invisible address 

Bat shit, bumble and bat around catnip 

One black heart Katamari massive 

Packed in a fat category 5 rat nest 

Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace 

Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy 

Hate you, hate you more, no I hate you infinity 

And Pangaea break into smithereens 

Interlude prest-o change-o 

If it move to quick oh whey oh 

Right brain go white train Ramo 

Mustache any old Money, "no!" 

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Merrily merrily merrily merrily 

In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy 

Frog men schooled by the god Ed Emberly 

Pull dog sleds and exhume Dead Kennedys 

Bet, moth into kerosene awful 

A caution to straw men lost on vaudeville 

A-morally mixing business with 144 dixie whistlers 

Lawn chair, strong man twisted whiskers 

NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers 

Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ring-ers 

Are you privy to the misadventures 

It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street 

With a lethally modified piccolo pete 

There is admittedly an incredible mystique 

To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep 

48 strings of 12 

That ring ring ring, whiz bang, jingle bells 

And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy, classic 

Fire in the hole backdrafting 

Fold wild life out of the wolf pack wrapping 

Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine 

TNT plunger in all caps ACME 

Blast off half the whole damn mapscreen 

No sling no spear 

I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears 

Who been stung by an un-linked pinky swear 

During his what-in-the-fuck-was-I-thinking years 

Maybe an awkward phase 

Like his acne and sophomore fade 

Played, calling all out-of-work action figures 

It was death by saturn missiles. 

Photos