Drawbridge Songtext
von Aesop Rock

This is not your ordinary ballad
With a perfect little bow around the middle
And a black knight on a white horse
Or a white knight on a black horse
It′s got all these tired parts where
We don't even sing and random princess raise the drawbridge

We don′t serve your kind
It ends where it begins
And the beginning isn't pretty
Can't forget that not-so-perfect
Bow around the middle
(′round the middle, ′round the middle, 'round the middle, ′round the middle)
And it goes a little something like this

Moonwalking a broken soul pedigree incessant
Gut the cruddy frame
The zealots enveloped inside the belly of the blame
Cutthroats the result of pulp jokes soaked in poacher constants
And not a jewel amidst coal wander prominent honor (Honor)


I bought up silkworms by the bucket like starter kits
Sew your first martyr stitch
Join damaged mammoth brigading caper
Nurse the tantrum with a fantasy chaser
I keep the spare wings strapped to my fuses
In case the hackers snatch the plumage

So you mean these things are worth money
Now drifting off
This is the who-you-calling-homeless
Mock me fearful
Twisted mighty fearful twisted and tonight I got front-row seats at the d-d-d-d-dead concert
And you're in it, Ichabod

Running out of morals for my allegory (moseying)
My kind of people will sell only circles (woseying)
With my eyes patched in a not so new universe
So I beckon and bray but my pretty bird just ain′t muting the many

Oh it'll be soon (Real soon)
Balloon immune to doom blend
I ain′t ditchin' the kitchen 'til every spoon bends
A glance along tomorrow, sorry
Looking lot of hopefuls was the rain dance


My little flint never dreamed would flutter potable
See I sanitize nothing for the sake of contemporary taste
Contemporary taste made my lip drop in the first place (Incoming)
Hmm, You want to be a Czar? idolize fallen heroics
Recognize root of the worship, search and hold it

Who put the fun in dysfunctional?
I, prodigal son combustible, donkey-punching pinholes
In uncomfortable Zen conjunctionals for good (Good)
The bear cub slop a goblet of dirt wine
I nurse a single application of introvert, serpentine

Now a sunset without a scrape of red an-an-and a plastic bag noise
Sunk down around his head sick-sick-sick-sick
Stealing a peak
There′s sickness likeness in the roofer′s eyes and his alone
And nothing terrible happened to the bag

Wrongs spilled off in
And brought on out the clouds
The hiss cuts out
Spill its voice
And the piano
And the window full of
Star is fresh kept
From where I'm going holy other
Holy other, holy other, holy other

B-B-B-B-B-But
I′ve got charcoals in my heart, I've got charcoals in my heart
I′ve got charcoals by the armfuls that burn my armor apart
I've got charcoals in my heart, but I′ve got charcoals in my heart
I've got charcoals by the armfuls that burn my armor apart

And before, when I said 'Shut the fuck up, it′s none of your business′
That was to be in vain
Be sure to lock that up when you're all finished
Finished yet? Now uhm...
I usually finish this number with uh... my skull open

Everybody rally around the novel burners, spit, murder the matches
Where the junkies trade diseases and the gullible trade passions
Then the masses wanna lean on me like "oh captain, my captain"
Not considering maybe this orphan hosts morbid attachments

Button, button, who′s got the button
Take my name, please
Button, button, who's got the button
Leaks the little gentle man made of lightning inside my lock-box
Oh, you like to help with coats wait unti you see what I got in this here locket

This is not your ordinary ballad
With a perfect little bow around the middle
And a black knight on a white horse
Or a white knight on a black horse
And I can′t forget the not-so-perfect bow around the middle
Round the middle, round the middle, round the