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whitman fever - jackaltheblackal lyrics

[intro]
if the gun doesn’t decide to shoot then my fists should be handed fine

[verse]
charming third *rs*nal
loopin’ rounds revolve rapid*play fire, rigid hand had spasms
jigen shoot his nouns, navigate liars; trigger happy havoc
hit his crooked crown, splatter ingrained, was split on cracking chasms
my pinnacle; rookie mounted, matters were taken past to distract his balance
caught me founded, crooked smiles contrasting lips on having panics
prodigies considered that a challenge, amount of pictures taken
proclaimed kings they cannot fathom, basis was to amp by passive
only sounds were fingеr rub calluses * flipped it back on active
indеx finger taking up a fraction, ramp it til’ free hands on
knees, sticking stigmas * both wrists were fractured; bpm had slackened
colder pressure fixed with all slanders, eternal flame was gaslit
folding sweaters * permanent practice, the bangle’s made of plastic
love for an awfully wicked city, captured crevice; cat’s eye
methodically, dog’s end concluded a swollen silent franchise
sacrificed, brand by eclipse in sn*tching your standard lives
had i always stacked my guns, never could you have stacked your knives; my
scar borrow my plaque deprived * automata the platinum punch
market mad world’s chant was “anta baka?”, harness a placard plus a
story back to calming stork father cos’ one felt saddened * muddled
mossy papers; swordsman a partner, i’m now the captain son
god, for a minute there was just laughter, after handed couple
bonds, soaring pigeon under covers kept, we had to change course
this is like that denji with a chainsaw, man never
tripping on some power people paid for, pack barking til’ some
tragic needs were only slow pacing per se; that yusuke painting
phantom thieving * provide memento of every tuesday waiting
concerned leisure serial cadence, means sorts i played with
reserve detour meant more experimental, the lane switch
played too many stupid games, won too many stupid prizes
came to stare through it, crane’s gape like a mouth; i shook to try it
devil waking up the gear five heater, now i knew i played with fire
onizuka * telling my year five teacher: “i became a great writer”
[outro]
played too many stupid games, one too many of stupid prizes
onizuka * beat the morning demon; kamen great rider

- jackaltheblackal lyrics

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