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Cold Veins

from Tanasi by Capsize

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about

prod. by Cutthroat

lyrics

Ribcage xylophone vibrates, a quickened pulse sending out nervous, hurting, bursting heartbeats. With disdain I’ll die alone irate. Simple as a dull, pending furnace spurting short of the marquees. I’m a dog with a wish to be taken out back, stakes on the table, tied to the track, whistle in the distance, blind to the trap, bird on my fist, X on the map, never was one to play Russian roulette but I’ve hit that point, can’t pay my debts, so I’ll make a bet, pass to the left, and when it’s my turn, no thought but to check. Listen, I know the ensuing void seems fillable but during intermission the narrator became atypical. Strange ways, filed my teeth with a picklock. Close shave, now I skullfuck hip hop. Lip-locked with a putrified Maji, got documentation, just days away from laser range. Name the game, no salutations. Do you value information or lamentations from thrones? I’m trying to parse out maladroit redactions while paying mind to the drones.

Short changed. Red eye flight. Now I sport mange in a dead-eyed night. Cold veins. Head on ice. Now I softly rot and leave the maggots enticed.

Hirsute and grotesque, I lurch for the nearest victim. Drink my sour fill while the bystanders are sickened. Lick my choppers off like I’m finished with Goliath. Grin at the soccer moms while flipping zips to the clients. (SYKE!) Grip of a tyrant, pent up like a shy hydrant, one-of-a-kind posse of heyokas and pirates. I idle in the mainframe, stroking an invisible beard. Sidle to a waning flame, stoke it to quench my fears. H.O.V. lane cause I’m a two-faced bastard, scatter my ashes in quicksand so they’ll be buried faster. I sold you shit in a golden-flaked, silver lined box, so you better thank God I’ve at least got some interesting thoughts. Tete-a-tete but I’m the only participant, my brainwaves ricochet like Hungry Hippos gone omnivorous. It’s magnificent, the rationality defenestration, your principality mangled so badly you can taste it.

Hide me away with a dunce cap, one lap overly ambitious for a hunchback. Punching bag mana course, grander horse watched over the scene and gleaned new secrets of life force.

credits

from Tanasi, released January 1, 2015

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Lost Bard Recordings Nashville, Tennessee

Resurrecting the lost bard. Bringing you up & coming, relevant hip-hop and electronic music from around the world.

@lostbardrcdngs

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