I don't run around in circles, I run circles around Though I get how it's similar on the surface The first is a reaction, a shitty customer service The latter is like going back to flip your own burger The very hungry caterpillars hatchily usurpers And graduate from a favorite leaf To something with some agency Something with a little bass and even more complacency Where someone could in theory dig a hole adjacent, wait and see Got 'em, race for the save screen of c'est la vie Opposite Jamaica at some tabletop arcade machine It's been a while since I played I used to memorize the mazes, now I'm lying in wait I used to entertain the chase and even iron the cape Now I use it when the dogs have been outside in the rain Mostly perched up on the parapet observing Army after silly army, turn to armadillos curling We roll them back down, no return addressing, a name Just address too from whence you came This is tentacle a neck [?] and pull an octagon wrong Off stage, erase the contact and whack the gong I sing on-hold music when you talk It's one level ruder than the palm The next level remove you from his lawn The level after that it's got it moving back to Mom Look, I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up Chew the fat chit-chat, chin-wag and pop-chuck Talk about the weather like we never seen a hot Sun All that, yeah, but I'm a fullback anonymous I ain't really tryna sit around and break bread Dialogue, smoke, talk, and share the same wavelength Talk about the weather like we never seen the rain wet All that filler, I'm a fullback and play dead Possum, dead till I say I'm not No, say I'm some Frankenstein at the breaker box It's alive, the patron saint of the vacant lot Tablehopper threw his phone away and made you tom [?] The safety goggles on Bugs going splat splat Must've ate a half a dozen Zagging through the acid jazz Jackrabbit vast lap Benny Masher It's the dash of vanilla extract in the batter Everything I do is counter to everything else I do And in the purple haze Making green from yellow and blue Red moons festooned over choppy surf Golden hour blowing kisses to the conifers And everyone in Miami's a photographer Not taking photographs, the new taking photographs Watch and learn I like the memory that mirrors my experience The essence of the miracle is not material Nineties graph headphones on, no tunes playing Mostly a deterrent for the two-faced soothsaying We know you really came to raid the tomb Now you can't even get the car and drive her out the waiting room I put so many hours into reaching a brink It makes the party people be like: How is this even a thing? No real close encounters I was probably busy running through the closest field of flowers like I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up Chew the fat chit-chat, chin-wag and pop-chuck Talk about the weather like we never seen the hot Sun All that, yeah, but I'm a fullback anonymous I ain't really tryna sit around and break bread Dialogue, smoke, talk and share the same wavelength Talk about the weather like we never seen the rain wet All that feeling I'm a fullback and play dead