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instrumental: me
vocals: me + @ndgomusic


words
__________

[me]

ditch the broken shield
commando dressed in rounds
sticky, crimson
holding still--absent, blink, no one lives?
mutiny domestic
slowly split, slap the covergirl off your siren
grabbing ankels
kindergarden-too-high told quick

Not to diss your love
but I'm against the fisticuffs
we gets it rough, so hell's to pay
weight--we're moved to act when the scale is grey
morals swelled in freight
yin-yanging into a cage

But your the righteous ones,

and life is binary
you try very--stop, chuck your gavel till its sky clearing
indite me?
then I'm appearing
in your clouded court
wiped hearing, and flip pigeons with wide mirrors

Heh,

Cough it up, feathers on your robe
leave you staring lone
we weather rome's anarchy and helter-skelter roads
call it the far east movement
we're checking plates and mob maneuvers if a squeal looses
reckless rage with iced humerus leave the field clueless
respect our space and wipe pupils if we then dream boldly

Well, that was mean--mostly

but throwing paint at this canvas got our scrotum weight off
and our integers cozy in the house with the roof taken out

camo panted
spiked bats on the delts
marching rodents, no race
zebras retreat, with backwards welts
Hydrogenate the holes you put us in
or enema your smoking guns
it's only fair we poke some slits
in that dry condom you've been poking us
with
outsiders, center-massed

Humpty-dumpty the building while you limply fidget and tend the grass

Now
gimme my face back, all cold, been missing it--
shhhhh, only Christ dial shells; as for you, you keep your system shut  
and stop starscreamin' i--

[Verse 2: NDGO]

post modern so hotter fixed in this appearance 
poetic curiosity goes adrift as weirdness 
cops will see this as attack and hit our back 
I stopped saying kiss my ass
but now I'm in the rear view mirror 
clearer now, fearing cows, yeah thats the black and white 
nothing comes so easily, I don't know the path that's right 
but I know there's magnets, that'll try to hold you down
some call it gravity, but somehow we fly town to town 
(right?)
take a namesake 
blame fame on the taming mainstay 
I'm feeling one way
but reeling off a hundred pages 
I'm on the runway
they say there's stages 
but watch that gunplay take a done play turn it to a million
billion, trillion
wait that's the deficit 
I got a message it's
don't trust the higher ups until you're higher up 
don't test the fire just assume you're fuckin' wired up
don't trust the higher ups until you're higher up 
and even then...don't trust em

[Outro: NDGO]

movin round the city at a pace that's never given 
pop a pill and chill that's why we all just out here sitting
smoke a blunt and kill that's how I'm feeling when I'm feeling
this shit that keeps my sanity intact I know you feel it 

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porkchops [ft. NDGO]

paradise beneath her feet

words:
_______

Skull baby darling doll face;

She’s in a 
Small apartment locked in always
Alone on her floor,
Domesticated and boxed up—two windows poked through the walls for air and sunrays;
She’s
Drawn to them looking out dazed,
Suffers awe,
Watches, paused in a thoughtful blockade… 

Its small, and lived in
Room without a number, the walls are rock, thick, slum project standing tall, she’s top fiction, in the clouds, sees the town, all of it
Static sky, fizzing over old buildings, bold flashing sign, UGLY AMERICANS, massive line,
biggest businness in the whole city;
Smoke twisting high, drifting from its backyard factory, the Museum of Agony; 

Small world, lots of skeletons, some people, 
Small girl, all intelligence, none speaking, in her couch curled her television is up peaking when she’s not perched on her sill and just stuck dreaming 
Unvacuumed carpet, acoustic wrapping and scattered gowns, trash bags, and raptured books with half the chapters gashed out
Chews them to calm her nerves;
Phots nailed to the walls, refuses to get her clock to work;
Wearing old tees and sweat pants;
Nontuple locks on the door 
No one visits

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twitter.com/herloyalbones

@lukebonds


words
_____

I used to say,
Not until the chain hang
Not until the chain hang
But now
I march single file
stopped twitching wild
chic black leash strapped neat
'round the throat;
chain-linked to the corpse in the front and the back,
lemming formation
slumped in my stance 
as I lumber with heels in the sand

Now
Can't you hear their footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
[boom boom]

I'm just an ugly american, 
unaware of the nothing fair
swear something's in the hump day
blunt to the pump fake,
midget-circuited propeller hat
hot sticky afro-lollipop in one hand,
infant in the other
"You'll take your dad's place in the chain gang son!"
I've been in line for 
twenty three spins 'round the sun 
are we somewhere?
Nah
First we gotta the pop the cork 
off the noggin
deposit your rations
Just wash for the cochleas, 
but we'll cop your arm and your hamstring
That's
80 hours for an elbow
Holidays for the kneecaps
Plus
We're gonna have to repo your other arm, 
you didn't grow the first one back
Send all complaints to the steward
of broccoli, undoing the waist
then oxhide admonishing,
mister vegetables,
sits waiting for the nausea, 
then rams a binky down your esophagus
Those with the most limbs get freed,
80 percent of us are torsos
Closed casket for the weight
More reclined in the pith--
How to reboot the machine without frying the grid

Can't you hear their footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
Footsteps go
[boom boom]
[boom boom]

Broccoli
Spinach
Brussel Sprouts
Carrots
Beetroots
Eggplants
Squash
Lettuce

I want to talk to the celery pilot,
sell him flying lessons;
I'm always chewing his airline shrapnel,
I don't think he likes it--
Matter of fact, I plead he leads me 
to his fountain of youth
Cuz he dies every supper
I die every morning
And that's not to slander the nutrients,
But 'other options' is called for
The system isn't the problem 
But there's chinks in its armor
And mold in the cracks
That must be where the rest of the world fell
can't take off the leash
But I can break off the links
Make for the wilderness
Return with a truck full of limbs

mr. vegetables [prod. by Luke Bonds]

my tinfoil.

words
______

i start my day in the dumpster
wormy fingers wriggling under filth
flinging rotten food and plastic
skyward for the gift,
a magnet for the magpies
aluminum armor for the scalp
push a little shopping cart of memories
mobile home of hopes and dreams and cocoa creams
and slowly molding anglo-saxon loyalty
a shattered mirror
hair conditioner
and a bowl of bleach
reigning homeless in a foreign city my family built
with my tinfoil crown
i'll take my life without the microwaves,
see, they'll never spot me long as i'm 
off the grid and boxed in my cardboard castle,
entangled in bum fights and sleeping in the margins,
don't you bet on my ballot
but
if i cast it 
i'll ask for elderly metals for the masses
stuck miming a vagabond
deflecting all broadcasts of a land beyond
a soapy wall
your aura may be blue or beige
whatever, mine is spherical shaped

but i feel
a lot like yesterday,
a lot like never
guard against the brain control
incognito's all i need to know

i end my day under the overpass
right at home
hoping a fortune of copper drops in my styrofoam
my fighting gloves
pendulum from the nail the crown swings on
milliliter, abbreviated
still weeping over a spilled dream
so i plugged the dyson with a ball of reynolds
feels free?
gazing at constellations of concrete cracks,
nicotine nebulas and shooting pigeon stars,
whiting out the stains on my 
dank blanket
of daily news
cosmic glass ceiling
i'm armored in trash bags
flies trapped in my gravity
as i orbit a makeshift sun born in a trash can
the world above fears this black planet
divided along borders of deity and inferiority 
secretly hoping for my abduction
with knotted arms shielding a thin body
its just what it is
why shun it
the only thing that'll poke holes in my tin logic is a white bullet

guard against the brain control
incognito's all i need to know
but i feel
a lot like like yesterday,
a lot like never
guard against the brain control
incognito's all i need to know

tinfoil [prod. by Luke Bonds]

[not until the chain hang]

words
---------
Dazed, dilligent
Dizzy word wizard past militant,
Days thinking white with a black filament
Feel a bit
Fall in with the all-blind bandit or split
Dash devlish or 
Dance derelict
Sit--
Switched past since wish smashed,
Dish spit wrath
Lips mince glass
No mirrors
Not until the chain hang
All physical
Or at least draped from a great name

Gold over Rope [x4]

I got a crushed skull,
Blood gush, mushed pulp,
Hemorrhaged memories and a hushed pump
Butter
Art theft--my vitruvian
Missed the point
She burned me and rubber
Dead--living it up
Drift in the clutch
Missin the crutch?
Nah
Wrists slip from the seminal cuffs
Scribbled visions enough
Listin the critical stuff
Shiftin the pivotal brunt
From the physical eminent limited fluff
Fishing for legend and relevance, some
Sorry, just
No knowing it
Prolly been years since I been low sodium
So
No XX
Not until the chain hang
All physical
Or at least draped from a great name

Gold over Rope [x4]

Carrots, Carrots, Carrots, Carrots,
Double dozen Kay daisy chain
Coiled heaven lay subtle suffocate 
Saintly snake
Covet led the way
Lover something faded, chase it
Chase it--
Go
Point me to the corpse and I'll beat it till a horse
Blinkers for the borders, only forward, six galore
Frisk me for some time but I keep it in the shorts
Miss me with the crying, rub the tears in for support
Tearing for support
Discard em in the pocket always bleeding with retorts
Bleeding from retorts
You're seeking this for sport?
It's feeding me
Just tweaking it, tweaking it, tweaking it some more
And tweaking it some more
Dim light
Rectangle shrine worship till the end night
Back angle worsened no blinks for the singed eyes
Spasm state curse
Rodent nibbles till the art's right
No sleep
Not until the chain hang
All physical
Or at least draped from a great name

Gold over Rope [x4]

chain [prod. by shwgunn]

we're all just walking eachother home. 

{album coming soon}

inquiries: theskeletonjimmy@gmail.com

skulls

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