Cover art for Motormouth’s Anonymous by Eyedea
Jul. 1, 20021 viewer

Motormouth’s Anonymous Lyrics

[Intro]
So I - so I says to the guy "Hey, I'm writing a screenplay"
But Pavlov did pair it with an unconditioned stimulus for a reason
And whoever murdered prophecy can expect a prize from me
And at the exact same time, in a totally different novel much stickier than this one, came the life of a salesman when card houses crumble, dammit!
What word rhymes with "hide the spike"?
Hey uh... can I borrow one of those cigarettes?
I don't know, I don't smoke

[Verse 1]
Everyone I know is hollow
So what am I to do? I can't follow
They footsteps If I wanna see tomorrow
I keep my chin even with the sun of the evening
So I don't succumb to the sorrow
Scarred and hardened is my heart of charcoal
The garden of weight to harness equates that of a car load
Borrow me five dollars for the art show
I'll pay you back the day I sell my gargoyle
Hard boil my eggs with a side of cardinal
Carve my name in the barn to alarm all the farm folk
My ego problem's just a parcel
Vertically I cruise, currently enthused to surgically remove my barcode

Momma's little boy seems to have some awful bizarre goals
He's not moving 'til the fungus in his jar grows
He's got a hair on his arm for every dart thrown
Hoping the bridge he built of gasoline-soaked yarn holds
For the followers, the deputies and the marshals
And especially the MCs who haven't yet had they card pulled
I roam the streets with a necklace made of shark skulls
And a tooth in the ground that's how I leave my mark
[Bridge, "so what's really goin on?" in the background]
Don't you think American Beauty was way better than Fight Club?
I mean did Einstein reject quantum mechanics because uncertainties were devils, or is that flower just not worth plucking?
It's intriguing, jeez this fucking phone cords
I know a song you don't know
I bet this glass will still be see-through next year
Hey uh... c-could you order me another beer?
I don't know, I don't drink
Dig it:

[Verse 2]
I used to always talk shit about MCs, but then I realized
I gotta grow up one day, you see, now I'm more civilized
But that is why you pitiful guys didn't die when victimized
Cause I still got it in me to bend a sissy and send him to his demise
Pus drips from a bitter sky, what's this from? Is it my karma?
The snake eats its tail, wake me up, fail to break free from jail, flaky and stale's my armor
Eighteen and frail as cardboard, it's a hard chore escaping from Hell
Pardon me for my language, your honor
But lately I feel anguished conquering my inner power
A martyr racing a snail a yard or so behind him
Wandering through the forest like a poor little coward
How were the head games that you experienced?
I nearly pissed my pants as I missed my chance
To be seriously advanced, spiritually enhanced
I'd watch the flame flicker and dance, but I can't, my man, I got plans
I stand strong with my hand on the mic
Tryna freestyle the answers to life
Huh, cuz, uh, you know. I consider myself a pretty good freestyler and all that
Huh yeaah I like the sound of that (So what happens next?)
[Bridge, "so what's really goin on?" in the background]
What happens in that deadly space between "I love you" and "pack your bags"?
Gödel's theorem suggests certain information can travel faster than the speed of light
But I keep flashing back to the first time I broke my teeth
To 1978 into a high tides could buy me a car, but I'm on Mars
So smile strong, breathe good, the writer of this riddle is dead
Walking, walking, running, left
Peace

[Outro]
What's really going on? (repeat til fade)

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