September 4th, 2009 / 6:07 pm
Uncategorized

Friday Fuck Books, let’s talk about breakfast cereal…and then maybe dance.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ME9cHn6j88o

Almost certain I’ve linked to this before, but here are Aesop Rock’s Top Ten Breakfast cereals.

Lyrics after the jump.

Into dust we go
Dirt, gum, hair, and snow
Into dust we go
Hair, gum, dirt, and snow

Quixote comma Don
Dime by the squatters dogs
cop out the shaman’s O well in
Bombin’ the common grog
Overflood a levy hope it soaks the berry roots
Reanimate the council of the topiary wolves
Move em out, raw hides
Stood his ground like a two headed hound with God’s eyes
The botiny’s alive, and rotten meat
I’m Ace I foot the fertelizer bombs
Like water until they morning of the skillful IP farms
The chealthiest canary in the mind’s overdoses
With a cane it’s luke to skeletosis smells like guns and roses
Honestly the barking biter reek fully shit
Heed to receed to be eager to tip or be meet with a spit
Are you the singing bush? (Yep) Spring the quid and minor keys
Ain’t nothin a mechanic on the linus to the virus rings tiger
Look, bring your bangers to brawl
And bring your bangers and mash home for all, it’s raw

Into dust we go
Hair, gum, dirt, and snow
Into dust we go
Hair, Gum, dirt, and snow

Coyote comma Wile E.
Fighters never stand still
Chase birds, dodge pianos and falling anvils
Jaws snorting now and laters, apple, cherry, grape
With green grass roots to flot the topiary apes
Any weather, the Macy’s november with few teathers
We spotlight to the city like a Bambi eye collector
Power Pill Fist, Donkey Kong, chess, check the gesture
Pinecone avelanche hit the decker
Twenty wolves up, one down, what a town
Squirrels in the chimney too stubborn for puffin out
I’m on a record (Yep) can’t say I blame the little bastards
Cause tonight’s I’m gonna allow pass to the practice for the pacifist
Four children pad gather bloody flowers
To sprinkle on the human analog cadavers after
With no gorilla sign language break through for the moment
Just a pitbull on harry for the clothes that no one owes you, bitch

Into dust we go
Dirt, gum, hair, and snow
Into dust we go (the fuck am I on?)
Hair, gum, dirt, and snow

Kenobi comma Ben
Mingled the common men
He had the fangs of Gengis Kahn, he had the heart of Gonga Den
Tobacco in the bleachers bright confetti everywhere (Weeee!)
To celebrate the influx of the topiary bears
And when they infiltrate the picnics with they limbs inside the honeycombs
They grub up to the oyster club for shadows of your sunny home
Nobody knows your troubles, your woes are holy rolling
Cause jungles will discriminate when grosly ever growing
Every blow and every trolling butter bowing
Every soldier, every lawnmower, motorboats with bends insider their starter
We stock up on the 99 octane and DDT
Like seymour’s little shop in a moment that made me pee
God damn, garden clubs are parkered up to share spare parts
It sucks for John Deere’s and armored trucks
Hard enough’s for what you put the panic buttons for
This is not your parent’s bio-organic war!
No
No, no, no

4 Comments

  1. Blake Butler

      that man is a real man

  2. Blake Butler

      that man is a real man

  3. Blake Butler

      plus he said “Shit looks like a sweet, sweet oil spill, AND if you’re fast, it’ll still be cold by the time you “step into liquid”. Blizaow.”

  4. Blake Butler

      plus he said “Shit looks like a sweet, sweet oil spill, AND if you’re fast, it’ll still be cold by the time you “step into liquid”. Blizaow.”