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    [Chorus:]
    We don't need no walkie-talkies
    Nope, no walkie-talkies
    We don't need your coughing when offing the morning coffee, no
    We don't need no walkie-talkies
    Nope, no walkie-talkies
    We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go

    [Verse 1: Aesop Rock]
    And the last shall be...
    First to immerse in the pass-out heat
    Face in the mud where the moxie melt
    Till he woke up drowning in Tchotchke hell
    More in a cave with a torch on the wall
    Than a window arrangement of porcelain dolls
    On a brand new day, saw what he saw:
    Property owners who crawl to the mall
    With a bad toupee and a face like he authored a law;
    Pace like he mourning a loss
    Right hand on a can of worms
    Left full of gold he will trade for turf
    I mean, that's okay
    You got to answer to you at the end of the volatile day
    But a model of mercy and might? No way!
    Marionette who will clap and obey!
    Dude, look... all that noise?
    Call that flight of the water boys
    Meet and greet and they all slap five
    Cheek to cheek when they colonize
    And a grown ass man shall abide as he wish
    Walk that path with a dime and a stick
    Walk that path with a diamond and wine
    Walk that path to the firing line
    Just walk... (walk...)
    Pay no mind to the new recruit with the Play-Doh spine
    Let's be friends from opposite ends
    Wave to the kid, don't hop on the fence
    Play to the radius far and away
    Orbit wide, don't park in his space
    One little martyr who talk in his face
    Make one little Weathermen sharpen the blades

    [Chorus:]
    We don't need no walkie-talkies
    Nope, no walkie-talkies
    We don't need your coughing when offing the morning coffee, no
    We don't need no walkie-talkies
    Nope, no walkie-talkies
    We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go

    Continúa después del anuncio

    [Verse 2: Aesop Rock]
    And the last shall be...
    First to the curb with the mad cow meat
    Face in the bars of a regular cell
    When he woke up high in collectible hell
    Boom town kid who was taught by the binge
    That a man who expire with the most shit win
    That's warpy American nonsense penned by the rich
    Not a routine friend in a pinch
    Still not used to the stench
    How it throws off, otherwise, lucid events
    In the case the afraid observe
    I got a Pro-Keds box full of layman's terms
    It goes, "Hey! Peace! Pray for the plagued!
    Major relief and capacious rains."
    But just 'cause I don't want to war with you
    It don't mean go warm up the barbecue
    I'm like, "Pardon you! "
    Sawed off limit
    My high noon is a quick little minute
    I don't wanna spend it sitting with a critic
    Who simply isn't going to ever really get it
    This HQ is alive and alone
    No driveway no sign of a home
    No dial tone, no line for the phone
    No "World's Tiniest Violin Song."
    And I might just lie to them all
    Lie in the morgue with a deep breath hiding and bored;
    Fighting a smile, highly annoyed
    When the timing is right I will rise and record
    Call for the monster beats
    And Blockhead got animal drums, like he's Doctor Teeth
    It goes red light, green light, one, two, three
    One large coffee, fuck you, peace

    [Bridge:]
    T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
    T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
    T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
    T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
    T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S

    [Verse 3: John Danielle]
    I crawled down to the basement when the weather got cold
    Like a lost lamb returning to the fold
    And when the outside world recedes from view
    It's just a year's supply of make-up and memories of you
    Nineteen sixty-seven, colt forty-five
    Holding back the vampires, keeping me alive
    There's an envelope with some cash in it out by the front door
    This is what they make you take the medication for

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Ian Bavitz

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