Cold

[Verse 1] Never go to work, everything messy Ashes everywhere, giant cans of Pepsi Constant updates, the van needs brakes Everything is great, stolen license plates Dandruff everywhere, kids got colds Dishes in the sink, place smells like molds Live inside cable, fantasize about moves Enter your 30’s, still wearing Jerseys Need to do burpees, take more showers Get yourself together, assume a spirit power Maybe it's a raven, maybe need prestique Same conversation, the same long weeks [Verse 2] I want a simple life, where we milk cows and cobras Coral snakes, soufflés of the lightest cakes Moon lightning, stationed exercise biking The same qualities found in the common Viking Floyd similar to the singer, Lloyd The fang of the cobra and the morning avoid They’re just kin called Roys and The Donovan Boys All six of them, exotic like British men I’m like, fellas, you could have won a Tony We could have been brothers like Josiah and Yoni There’s so much room, beautiful purple flowers bloom Check me out, man, I’ll be over soon The detective skills of Dolph Lundgren, L.A.’s never been more safe The great escape is tougher, like having a family complicates Look on the bright side There’s many things to be happy for Like living in Los Angeles with an unlocked door That's what you pay Dolph for Beaver coats, pretty walls, snore atop a house for birds A total loss for use of words, to shave your lamb, that shit was cold The weight of snow on naked trees, the weight of giving up a dream Settle down into the soil, sprout another dream tutorial Grubby criminals versus the fire department, I followed them to the apartment, sergeant Axes out, with positioned on sixth floor, hoses up the staircase, aimed at their front door We got ‘em, those bastards won’t know what hit ‘em Chalk one up for the good guys, we got ‘em, captain [Verse 3] Hey, marry into royalty, become a duke Make your buddies puke, ‘cause you joined the new social loop Involving velvet, couplets, and little bells Go to hell, suckers, enjoy livin' at your brothers' And your covers smell like rubber Sleeping bags, and cupboard's mold Walkin' to your car cold I’m children's choirs and gray tea old