Grayskul Not Going Anywhere Ft. Aesop Rock lyrics

[Verse 3: Aesop Rock]

What misfortune befalls
What crawls from the drain
Dissolves in his aim
Plus awkward spreaders out of spider silk crosshairs
Christ
Cross skip outmoded with the lost years
Far away from puking with facials and unicorn tears
All black storms over children of the cornfield
Marching
Mondays mostly morbid
Within the confines of a sloping forehead

I was into it all gussied up
Play to win and aimed his chins up and up
Belly over belt he put the must in smut
Son of aceline is statistically impossible
Yet never misses holidays and visits in the hospitals
Meanwhile feverishly windexing his monocle
To study all the missionaries picnicking in productville
Might just recommend a little shuteye
Before we bring the future to you motherfucking Luddites