We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Electric Sleep

from RESTRICTED PIZZA CONTAINMENT AREA by WRS

/

lyrics

It was foretold that in some external nation, they don’t grow old only die from laceration, or some disease, they resist that old scythe.It’s not the fountain but it is eternal life. They meditate on the ground that is ever fertile, on top the back of a GIGANTIC FUCKING turtle and in their minds they see what has been and will be as they enter the state of electric sleep. Though some might hang on their thoughts, they can’t breathe the smoke without coughs, drifting from some ecclesiastical furnace, filling your head swelling up with purpose. Sleep with both eyes open or not at all, feel the coursing power envelop all. Hand on hip connecting power, goals in life ever so dour. They introduced you to the source of the cloud. Your head was shaking, it’s ever so loud. This is electric sleep a figure in chartreuse, cylindrical vessel to avoid the noose. Silent but hissing encountered by fire, a lithe writhing female asleep in the spire, colloidal taupe colored water around her. What once was inner is becoming outer. Syntactic rhythm slows to a creeping halt. She was hyped up for some reason really naught. September numbered points dragging from her center, some other scent requires you all to vent her. A man in glasses proceeds towards your asses. If he spots the ashes: dissipate the masses. Coattail on thornbush, you run and your leave, thoughts are still are clouded in electric sleep.I got the t-shirt of the new band now my t shirt’s cooler than your shirt my shirt. I fill my head with innocent thoughts now my shit head’s better than your head my head. I’ve been waiting for a long time for the turtle to approach me and take me. I got the smoke all up in my head and I’m thinking about the planets maybe? I put a flame right up to my face now I understand why you keep hating me. I put the flame in a cylinder shape so the volume doesn’t matter anymore. I got the t-shirt of the new band now my t shirt’s cooler than your shirt my shirt. I got the wonder under my hand and the bad man doesn’t want me to know that . I got a nasty plan in my hand and the bad man started to dash me for that. I put my fist right up in his face now he understands why he can’t get through me. I got the t-shirt of the new band now my t shirt’s cooler than your shirt my shit. I put my name inside of my face so I’m not beginning to tell when it hurt

credits

from RESTRICTED PIZZA CONTAINMENT AREA, released October 1, 2015

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

WRS Baltimore, Maryland

Experimental pop music from Baltimore, MD.

contact / help

Contact WRS

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this track or account

If you like WRS, you may also like: