Greenish from Stale Mates by Yachtburner
Tracklist
| 3. | Greenish | 3:30 |
Lyrics
Working man waiting outside,
The mine, the mind,
Clock ticking on the factory floor,
Working the whole time,
Damned hammers ramming sand through the hourglass,
Curves split shit sand on my sour ass
Twisting bed wire into something, perfect,
But still can't stop it, turning, into
I'm dizzy from the turn of the world,
The shake of the sphere.
Rolling dice in the back room,
Knock off, makings unclear.
Dry fingers, eager, gnarled,
Something new in the ear,
making guesses in a vacuum, honey
Guesses you don't want to hear,
We keep going over and over,
Just how we do this but
Facts wait in the fog,
Just a minute from here,
But fixing things is an old man's job,
What a fucked up idea.
just breathing it until we cough,
two seater covered by dog hair
Is there a reason we're really turning,
Into something, less than perfect?
Back at work in the glasshouse,
Just under the bridge,
Taste pure recycled bitterness,
My whole shift.
I think starting to work out,
Just who I'm working with,
There's a million people here and only,
You and I know what time it is.
Two decades work,
Expired chemicals,
Take solid form.
In future we'll learn
Nothing can change
It just gets confirmed
