Inanimate sensation
Vantage perspective from objective it came from
Inanimate situation
No relation, close liaison
No conversation, no social contagion
Bother me, wanna be comrade intrusive
I remain
Inanimate aloof skip
Counterfeit
Like no can do, bitch
My vinyl vibrate higher than you, bitch
I represent, aint meant to pursue which
One of you, oh you all wanna ride, well, I aint got room stress
While we continue to make shit tight the loosest
Aaaah
Blown out
Base
You got a minute
Youre in my way
Whats wrong
Wrong with who
So whats going on?
Okay
Where you at right now?
Im not with you
Inanimate persuasion
Strictly still life with all of my occasion
Inanimate surge of inspiration
Glow like thermonuclear invasion
Compared to swapping thoughts; regurgitation
I revel in lack of slightest acquaintance
No rancid level after taste inanimate negate opinion
As it unravel like enigmatic onion
Layers of interdimensional dominion
Blown out
Base
Yeah, bitch
Bitch, bitch
My smoke, my butane
My boots, my headphones, my medicated noose
My deadroom, my schwartzwald hat, my Mac
My macaque skull, my lysergic stash
Empty streets at night, my bike
Apartment sink filled with dry ice
Condemned tenement, brandished rail spike
Disturb in flat noir and stale white
Grey cloud curled around my bearded compound like boa
One of two thunderbolt we aint broke on tour
Concrète antique trapdoor twenty-four
Spots to get that get right
When I gotta get right some more
Type of get right I cant afford
I covet these things more than any living thing
Ive never been
Blown out
Base
Im so Northern California, I call scratch bammer
Pure overhander
Live show on a banner
Axl Rose in a blender
Slash on Satans fender
Rick James on the cover
Running through your lover
Like mean Mr. Mustard
Stadium style
For those who came to jock
Watch that man salute you
Endless nameless Lady Godivas we snoop to
Like eighty-three mermaids in Brooklyn Zoo
Inanimate ghetto box we used to pimp through
Blown out
Base
Inanimate fixation
Obsessed with my demo tape collection
Inanimate riffs Im glazin
Brag youre making music, naw, youre makin bacon
Skinhead, skinhead inna dublin
I like my iPod more than fuckin
Blown out
Base