Castles (feat. Aesop Rock & Sadistik)

Oh yeah, it's time they come down... down
 He said, "Fuck sobriety, death to the worker bees"
 Thirteen circles I've stepped for eternity
 Burning purple, stressed on a murder spree
 It's self-inflicted, don't get it twisted
 These knives in my back now, Elliott Smith (yeah)
 Rides in the background, melodies fit (yeah)
 Mixed with the misfits, fix is the hurt
 When the lips that I kiss with press to the dirt
 French-kiss vixens, distant and cursed
 Burned bridges occurred from scriptin' my words
 Word, so I'll chisel a verse
 On these lie-filled halls that I've lived in and searched
 I'm still lost in a head of catacombs
 Cause I build walls like I'm Edgar Allan Poe
 I've killed off every damsel that I know
 For castles that I keep, castles that I know
 I'm having spirits in the dark, laying under moonlight
 Laughing with a stranger, like I saved her from her doomed life
 Pop a couple Percs, a perk of anonymity
 Trapped within a curse that I created with my energy
 A path that I rehearse, a cycle on repeat
 Life is like a lion and I'm dying at its feet
 I roll another sweet, check my muted Treo
 I've seen them as the plot, too busy caught up in the B-roll
 My eye up to the keyhole, scared to turn the knob
 And go out on my own, instead I blend in with the mob
 My memory bank's the only thing I tend to rob
 And every time I phone the lob, I'm out of dodge
 It's hard, on the boulevard, and other clichés
 The type of bullshit that I'm feeding self these days
 Corrosion on my relays, one thing my mirrors chose
 An imp in new clothes, exposed
 I mow a dead lawn, aim for the alpha
 Ten claws deck the halls of Valhalla
 Not a man, a receptacle for crest-fallen matter
 Never tempered or pressed into patterns
 But just won't die, instead a palpitation from the plasma
 Pumping disenchanting anecdotes and antiquated data at 'em
 I get these headaches that climb down into my stomach
 Then off into my extremities and out into the public
 In a flood of shadow puppetry, something in the air
 Got a tiny pool of energy becoming self-aware
 It's recognizing family and alphanumeric characters
 Scenery and deities with unassuming avatars
 Close encounters exacerbate his condition
 From classy to a bastion of classic misdirection
 Tune into the Casio adventures
 When the rest of me can barely form a god-damn sentence