Bats

My feet hang off of every bed I ever slept on
 Catch less Z's more f-bombs (fuck)
 Invaders from the north brought a body in the trunk
 With four coal eyes ushering a Jonestown flood
 Two known, two dumbstruck
 Plain clothes sputter in
 A strange home spine-chilling cluster to unfuck
 Sup sup Austin, I know little magic
 No checked bags show up with the most baggage
 Fresh hell dragging old hell up from holed rabbits
 Who mangle emotion in gross patterns
 No carrots, only rumors of a bridge that flickered with black scallops
 And float pine out the bathtub of crass maggots
 (Bats)
 1 point fuckin 5 schmillion
 A number undermining how they duck and dive different
 And I was waiting for an hour and I merely saw six
 Some thought it was a bust, I thought it was the shit
 I watched the videos and hung out with his friends and hugged his mama
 And it's clear to me this kid's the Minnesota Dalai Lama
 And the llama twist his tongue
 To create a perfect rhyme
 Whether freestyled or preconceived to spit that shit out at your mind
 And your mind's rind peels back revealing
 Every dead friend on the back of a little black bat
 So you stand and you wait at the top of the bridge
 Only six fly out and return to where they hid
 So you wait and you wait and you never wanna leave
 ‘Cause 1.5 million bats is what you need to see to grieve
 1.5 million bats is what you think you need
 But 6 is enough to receive a little peace
 ‘Cause every little bit counts
 In times of death and disorder
 You look for shooting stars
 In the reflection of the water
 And you open the gifts that you didn't expect
 On the birthdays of the dead friends that are stuck in your head
 Like love, and hugs and songs and rage
 And the keys that you needed to unlock your heart's cage
 The ability to put the pen back to the page
 The heat beneath your feet to propel you on stage
 The beat that completes your shit these days
 Yeah the beat that completes your shit these days
 (The beat that completes your shit these days)
 BATS
 BATS
 The post cards coast from a recurring force field
 Pickling his demons with the prematurely door-nailed
 Never play Taps on a short-scale
 Played dream wars with coffins and chalkboard nails
 Sore thumb
 All played the corner of the salt lick
 K'll say, "The people you are meeting know what loss is"
 Twenty in, I'm on the patio with forceps
 Wig split, sorting what amount to little war heads
 Yadda yadda stop
 Tell me about your homie
 The quote that would open a can of bogeys
 In the form of stolen roman candle stories
 Wild youth clipped
 From a tether plus my alive friends are even deader
 Is a little folk singer who has run out of chords
 Like a big bad lion who has lost its roar?
 Coming in like a lambchop
 Out like a lyin' shame
 I got Gunther Gabel- Williams
 Tryna tame my brain
 With a flick of the wrist and a crack of the whip
 I said, "If that's all you got
 You ain't got shit"
 ‘Cause for free birds like me
 The possibilities are endless
 Try to put me in a box
 I will be relentless
 In my pursuit of lots of different kinds of things
 You can clip my toe nails but
 You can't clip my wings
 BATS
 BATS
 I know about your brother
 I will bring him to the bridge
 If the colony is hiding, we will lift him on the six
 Knife in the road
 Scalp in his mitten
 Glass house, decal of Calvin pissin---
 A proud Fugee of the foul cow tip cow system
 Triple crown clip, never trickle down bread crumbs
 Goofus over Gallant
 Mill about head shrunk
 Thread a symphony of krill and killer clown redrum-wretch
 If you ever woke up feeling future-proof
 Precious brothers in effect and rooting for the future you
 Speaking of the future us
 Twin City morning
 Broke a wiper on a rental tryna grin away the gory
 Wait, new game: smuggle bats on a plane
 Wait - newer game: tie the whole bridge to his frame
 I will drag these bricks
 Over lake and law
 Shake 1.5 out over St. Paul
 Just knowing poetry and mathematics get involved
 Any total ain't a quota more a draw
 Don't count shit
 First sign of leathery wings
 You throw them devil horns up yelling heavenly things
 See I started this life
 As a nappy buckwheat flapjack
 Flipping on the shiny white backs of the brat pack
 A princess, a jock, a brain, a freak
 Now I'm a fucking rebel I'm a little of each
 And I'm not ashamed of all the different parts of me
 And I like cross-pollinating the communities
 Because divided we're cool
 But together we conquer
 Like monsters and grouches
 And humans and honkers
 And if you're close to my age, then you were raised on the street
 With a Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip in front of your TV
 And our generation's gotta do it differently
 ‘Cause we got new ideas and new abilities
 Is that an old-fashioned funeral? ew - change the station
 I'd rather tune in for a life celebration
 Say good bye with dance parties and say good bye with shows
 ‘Cause that somber-ass shit's not the way I wanna go
 Put your hands in the air
 Feel your dead friend's presence
 Wrap and unwrap pack no resentments
 With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge
 And we're summoning the bats so we can live
 With our hoods on our heads we are up on the bridge
 And we're summoning the bats so we can live