LYRICS:

Pockets:
Fast.... down the rabbit hole of channels to discover rush... extended hats off to the juxtaposed cust--omers...  trying to keep the pace of their enjoyment and flux of yearn in place to earn a slow burn of the first time spectacle... let's see how much less the rest has learned. It's a twisted tale of worthiness mixed into the cost of giving up your individual imprint, identity with intent... countless ways to cater to the tormented invention of an "on command magician." Need I detail... this one? The gory site of listening... they don't want a reason for the Monster... just witness, the tension is business, ascension in vision, and somehow related to enrichment while gifting a series of gimmicks for attention... Boo!!! Dimensions of yourself are now lost in the loop.

Mugs:
And all they want are the parlor tricks
And that’s something that we’re here to fix
All they want are the parlor tricks
That’s something we’re about to fix

Acey Wasuto:
I can't lie
Idle I do not feel my
Hands
Closer closer
Like the devil got a got a hand on my hand on my hand
Hand me over Hannibal minded minding my business until you're
Food for thought
Minding my business till your mind is my business
Food for thought
Census solved
Chianti Fava Beans Liver
Ahh

Mugs:
Fresh water pearl in a lobster claw
Can you even digest what we cooked for ya’ll?

Pockets:
Total deva...
station in and out of my findings
When importance harbors on the coattails of your critic
And dependent on the image even if you know the cynics.. only then the game is trained to force your hand to bow to business... ha ha.. laugh a little bit to go the distance.. fumes..
running out of gas is a natural pastime for these tunes, but don't you dare take it as a reason to shoo..
Away from your levels intermittent with current news. Crazed looks gather in unison to prove that we ain't scared to be alone in thought, just give us the entertainment we sought to be the norm in art. Depending on who really bought into the frame work of our cause... because these people need a guide with a heart..
I guess it starts in a good place but ends with a car chase, tired of spinning wheels gets you fishing for bait... then you wait, and you wait, and wait... til you can't take it anymore.. it's torture...

Majority rules the quarters. Before you know it... half of you is really on the borderline of bailing on your tortoise... too slow... some are even willing to play the game beyond the penalty of dealing with menacing minutes of humility kindling a fire burning the regal parts of their history and legal craft... reversing the deed of our math.

Basically we seek pacing ease to give face to these wills to place our skills on top without having to drop props or stop rocking like we all scared of our shot