Ithaca - Rob Sonic

Rubbers so fair game, vicious V, R-and-R

Renegade baby back, maniac car alarms

Are in chart, yellow eyes surf-n-turf the gasoline

Make me search for scissors, taking pictures, turning Japanese

Strawberry clockwork, Rockford wanna file this

Buy me out for 90 thou', a tiny house and violins

That’s why the pins and needles and I sew with are the dirtiest

So come and tread the depth of this perception if you’re curious

Hurry wigs messed up, wrestle with the woe is me

Ricochets that hit your face and settled in your Ovaltine

Don’t believe the hype or looper, why sumo even try

To measure up the center cut, in finer suits and beeper ties

These the guys that get their kicks while soldering your fingernails

Laughing at the lockers while they’re doctoring your ginger ale

Distant tales on how it was, revisions with the pitter-pat

Up and down my power lunch on how it was on River Ave

If your cat bit 'em, well, zinfandel christening

Ship 'em to the Donner man where all the ants are listening

Ripping in a jellyfish, scale back the oven mitts

And set it an forget it 'cause I’m steady on that other shit

Cover it, entity, tambourine, war-cry

Hit 'em with the rhythm of that Ithaca jawline

More time needed to be seated at assembly

We come to take the lunchroom and the mushrooms made of centipedes

The area that you are discussing now is the aura of this planet

It is the Communicative Channel to which the

Million Council governs this planet

From the ground where they house-sit for cables

Mouthfuls of miller turned to scalpels and staples

Couch full of village voice, Illinois key-chains

Death be a fillers point, kill the noise briefcase

Tell your teenage cherries on a chalkboard

Got a bra barely just to carry 'round his aux cord

Encore, treading the rest of your own face

When the best of your options are sopping in propane

He rocking your rope chain, a problem you can’t solve

With some years, ever clear of spirited phone calls

Mirrors on both walls, watching your night off

For fear that your own flaws were not at the drive cloth

Rock 'em and sock toys with the rubbed off tool, he’s

On the way to fake daps and got stuck on twosies

Cuffing his blue jeans right at your boot spurs

Fuck your life, Bobby light up your block like the Pubert

Want to fight about it flower?

I’m down at the shipyard

With a hoochie mama using her boobs as a whip card

Bottomless pit bog, starving but still wavy

Walking with six yards through the parks that are still crazy

Staring a true A to Z in dark glasses

Part of the roof rainy, tea parlor bar matches

Speeding through fall fashion week, if the truth hurts

I’ll be in a Jaws hat, Capris, and a new fur