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Aesop Rock – Infinity Fill Goose Down ( Lyrics ) Letra
The brand reads “Animal Farm”
A fugee on the lam, runnin’ with a lamb in my arms
Trail of rabbits harboring the farmer’s brand of cigars
And cattle after, after that it’s like a ramp to an arc
Planned a garlic salmon, already romancing the fingerlings
When reminded why the ringer’s off, it only ever “ring ring ring”
Out of radio silence a bad miracle
Panic in the paradigm, attacking the familiar world
Evacuate, bleeding heart, I had to let the horses out
Who each step forward to bow free to ignore the corral
Freedom ain’t a circle per the management’s “normal amount”
It’s when the chorus vow to normalize the horse’s mouth
Black Philip free to b-a-a what he b-a-a’s
From a growing blob of jail-broken oxen and hogs
I know some pigs’ll splinter off I seen ‘em mixing with the bosses
Sipping gin, as if the trough is less prestigious than the office
It isn’t, receiving a transmission from the future
Where your time around them humans ain’t protect you from they butcher’s Block, a bunch of us are meeting at the moor behind the the Orkin
You coulda been a presence at the origin
Should you feel unsettled or some melting into madness
After entertaining more second chances than Velma’s glasses
From a person place or otherwise increasingly disruptive trend
You could always run the red, or break the glass or jump the fence, yea

It was always all of a sudden
All’s well ‘til it’s all of his palm on the button
I am always into something
I am always into something

It was always all a whodunnit,
All told, it was all of us up ‘til it wasn’t
I am always into something
I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I can introduce you to another realm
Help you with the move, but only you can go fuck yourself
Cut to helter-skelter in glorious technicolor
With bumper to bumper sending turtle shells at one another
It’s treasure hunters budding in some cannonball running of bulls
Sweating in the dead of summer, red X on the bread and butter
Pardon while his pedal power shed the inseparable umbra
Reset the pecking order, still ain’t pick a second number
Detective on some “how you get so mega extra ultra?”
I said “never check the weather and always dress for the tundra”
Merry “Dawn of the Mummy”, heard a call in my slumber
Woke to a thousand years of sauce of the month in a bunker
Yum, you could be the lunker under pepper X,
I feel like professor why, why are all my friends depressed?
Why’s this party feel like when I walked back into Selmer’s Pets
In precious tears like “why are all my tetra dead… yet again?
Landspeed entirely contextual
Glacial-pace grand prix, “space invader camera B!”
Cam or not, copy room, camp ground or canteen
Every time you stand down, I pop out yelling “and… scene!”
Make a million paper cranes, blindfolded
Both arms stuck in different crane games
Underwater, over coals, whole of his spirit above him
Call now, I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

I am always into something

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