I don't run around in circles, I run circles around
Though I get how it's similar on the surface
The first is a reaction, a shitty customer service
The latter is like going back to flip your own burger
The very hungry caterpillars hatchily usurpers
And graduate from a favorite leaf
To something with some agency
Something with a little bass and even more complacency
Where someone could in theory dig a hole adjacent, wait and see
Got 'em, race for the save screen of c'est la vie
Opposite Jamaica at some tabletop arcade machine
It's been a while since I played

I used to memorize the mazes, now I'm lying in wait
I used to entertain the chase and even iron the cape
Now I use it when the dogs have been outside in the rain
Mostly perched up on the parapet observing
Army after silly army, turn to armadillos curling
We roll them back down, no return addressing, a name
Just address too from whence you came
This is tentacle a neck [?] and pull an octagon wrong
Off stage, erase the contact and whack the gong
I sing on-hold music when you talk
It's one level ruder than the palm
The next level remove you from his lawn
The level after that it's got it moving back to Mom

Look, I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up
Chew the fat chit-chat, chin-wag and pop-chuck
Talk about the weather like we never seen a hot Sun
All that, yeah, but I'm a fullback anonymous
I ain't really tryna sit around and break bread
Dialogue, smoke, talk, and share the same wavelength
Talk about the weather like we never seen the rain wet
All that filler, I'm a fullback and play dead

Possum, dead till I say I'm not
No, say I'm some Frankenstein at the breaker box
It's alive, the patron saint of the vacant lot
Tablehopper threw his phone away and made you tom [?]
The safety goggles on
Bugs going splat splat
Must've ate a half a dozen
Zagging through the acid jazz
Jackrabbit vast lap
Benny Masher
It's the dash of vanilla extract in the batter
Everything I do is counter to everything else I do
And in the purple haze
Making green from yellow and blue
Red moons festooned over choppy surf
Golden hour blowing kisses to the conifers
And everyone in Miami's a photographer
Not taking photographs, the new taking photographs
Watch and learn

I like the memory that mirrors my experience
The essence of the miracle is not material
Nineties graph headphones on, no tunes playing
Mostly a deterrent for the two-faced soothsaying
We know you really came to raid the tomb
Now you can't even get the car and drive her out the waiting room
I put so many hours into reaching a brink
It makes the party people be like: How is this even a thing?
No real close encounters
I was probably busy running through the closest field of flowers like
I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up

I ain't really tryna sit around and chop it up
Chew the fat chit-chat, chin-wag and pop-chuck
Talk about the weather like we never seen the hot Sun
All that, yeah, but I'm a fullback anonymous
I ain't really tryna sit around and break bread
Dialogue, smoke, talk and share the same wavelength
Talk about the weather like we never seen the rain wet
All that feeling I'm a fullback and play dead