I like beats that are boring like this/ The boarding sign's lit/
take the cheap seat next to the emergency exit/ there's a leak in your flotation device and no oars/ keep kicking towards shore/ shoddy constructed shelter and warmth/ Charred tortoise on a tortilla chip for vital sustenance restoring utilize the sources coursing through our varicose veins/ bring to bare tape recordings my luggage checked to nowhere/ Still got here where ever here is or there was or wasn't mis-judged got buffed out before the outline was even put up I wonder what it would feel like if music wasn't some drunken stuntin’ find something to fuck or maybe it’s love or something like it/ whether you like it or not the budget means nothing show off I like beats that are boring like this no budging stance to support advancement pass on the passive aggressive we’re still listening to the classics on cassettes productions painting separate desolations carving underground caverns to explore with hard hats and lanterns/ clear some head room for the worry fog horn in the wrong hands current occurrences discouraging not expecting anything of what’s happening/ no response a rotten storage box of drugs bottled with love now bottoms up nose downward spiral to the landing zone known like the back of his hand holding the microphone/ Dusty shoulders musty odor trusts as far as one could throw underhanded not saying I've been anywhere you haven’t ever gone before/ helping to anchor the soil/ writing rhymes in the employment line the closest to working learning fast that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be/ to unimpressive as it ever was gotta’ keep trucking safe journey’s dad.