Letra de Sutures
Poisonous to touch
put ‘em up
be careful what you ask before you’ve had enough
yeah woman I can see into your eyes
dark times ahead
you the type
poisonous to kiss
I can taste it on your lips
I like the way it kicks
I like the way it kicks
you want me in your life
be careful what you wish

I’ve been looking to the future
tearing out the sutures
and the stitches you left when you moved to
that place
that you said better suits ya
but everyone you left me with here is just moochers
they want my money
coz they smell what’s imminent
I the immigrant
yeah Mr. Cinnamon
sweet candy for women
who want the integers
soul stealers
and bank account pillagers
so come back love
and set me on the train tracks
freight train lost my steam and my way back
pipe dreams that were sweet
I could taste that
now I’m just bitter
want my blood
and my payback
so tell me
do you know who I am at all?
standing here
with my back against the wall
thinking would you even know me if you saw me once more?

So why’d you leave?
you the ghost in the breeze
you the sickness of the night
when the light starts to bleed
the thick smoke from the souls of the trees
when the spirit of my fiery rage
starts to breathe
call me doctor
I medicate my soul
coz I see you in hallucigen visions where I go
and though I know it’s a sickness of my own
it brings me comfort to feel you in my zone
cold the troubles that visit to my tongue
I’m faithless with the words that arise in response
I need you back like a barrel in the gun
or a bullet that propels
with ambitions for the sun
and tell me
do you know who I am at all?
standing here
with my back against the wall
thinking would you even know me if you saw me once more?

In incrementals I spit on instrumentals
to show you that my fission is nuclear
I’m settled
with the intention of melting down your metals
reform your shape
like water out of kettles
I put the pedals to the pedestals
here I am the pulpit speaker
spitting out a metaphor
like S.A.Ts to escorts
from Equador
I found it’s best not to try to test a whore
put a punch like a sixth grade dance recital
spike the s**t
watch it hit
and then I dance behind you
I don’t move good
so I like to watch more
learn to dance?
yo
I’m famous
what the f**k for?
I grew wings once
but didn’t like my body image
I couldn’t wear my fitted suits
so I had to clip ‘em
sold the feathers
to a perroquet
doing chemo
much obliged to you sir
you my f**king hero
came back terrestrial
with roots like a vegetable
grounded to the earth
a protector
and a sentinel
f**k you seminal secretions
you edibles
is moved on
yeah
yeah
I eat in the intervals
when the clock ticks
and heart beats
I’m in-between
f**king up the rhythm
like a priest in a sinner’s dream
gloves is off
bare knuckles to your squeaky cleans
nice fight now boys
try to keep it mean
give you context
so you feel my backstory
in case you think I’m all good
and start to adore me
I feel love
which it turns out is bad for me
careful dear
before you turn into a sad story
I flick a switch on that side of me
it’s lights out
the anger of my arrogance
sits up
and flies out
I got adrenaline
I’m swinging in the 9th round
could be good though
I guess we’ll f**king find out
drink the potion
to induce the motion
love bottle number 9
bottled in the oceans
I sip it slow to avoid the commotion
don’t wanna rock the boat
and turn it to a ghost ship
down torrentials
I’m raining my credentials
rap form story
coz I don’t believe in pencils
I could incense you
with my commitment issues
but you don’t wanna hear that
and know what you got into
I bite a bullet
then project with my f**king tongue
you know my wordplay
I put it where there isn’t sun
where other folks don’t go
coz I stuck my flag
if I see footprints there
it’s gonna be f**king bad
I wanna trust but so often been the other guy
wanna open up
but so often seen a woman lie
doing uncivilised things in my bed
talking on the phone with their man
”I’ll be home in 10”
but I’m not cynic
yo
I’m stoic
but I’m in it
and for better or for worse
yo
this love s**t
I feel it
I’ll admit it
yo
I’m man enough to know it
not quite man enough to ever wanna show it
and so he floweth
the atheistic poet
with faith in a woman
and no signs of ever slowing
f**k a Jesus
Mohamed
or a Moses
I don’t need a prophet
to show me where it’s going
and f**k your lullabies
fables
and allegories
I speak straight truths
yeah
it’s just a mandatory
tongue-twisting like dykes trying to pick a pepper
words infected
s**t I’ll be sick forever