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Correct Back At The House Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: H
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Hemlock Ernst & Kenny Segal
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Correct Back At The House
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[Verse 1: Hemlock Ernst] Stepped out of the monastery, just off of the promontory Modern story, wig splitter, axes, horror, gory Capicola roast with fury, heaven's toast to Curly Three stooges rope-a-dopin', hopin' goats with curry Heavy coated in the mirror, boom like Pioneers With a glass of Everclear, maxin' the sag, like paneer Window room speaks, outta zoom peaks Boom, sweep the room into doom's beak Dust coatin' my opus I been hopin', I been hopin' timelessness is potent I been puttin' common sense in motion Dreamin' of a daily routine, she wear her hair just like a queen Close my eye, I see the last part of mine Spread it on like a lotion Walk to the edge, lookin' out on the ocean Took to the air, lookin' out on the ocean And how's the [?] today What's the seer sayer, soothsayer speakin' through the kumbaye, kumbaye-yo Where the day go? Another passed, fillin' up the tray with a truck of ash They do anything for some fuckin' cash Bundles stashed, sock heavy, incognito, Eugene Levy Best In Show eight years in a row, junkyard dog With the gold finger, where the cold linger, also a dead ringer [Hook: Hemlock Ernst] And where's Ken at, where the bins stacked? Pickin' up the pieces where you been at And I been flyin' letters through the gym stack Tryin' to warm my achin' hands, sendin' smoke signals to who understands lesser men Still tryin' to be a better man, but fat is the couch back at the house Fat is the couch [Verse 2: Hemlock Ernst] Out in the salty air, fair share for every care Sunshine on my face [?] and the taste of [?] Treats are cold and the wet and still tomes of my brittle bones Shake the will to kill, now chuck the pills Duck under the pier, peer heavy into salt and sag [?] Nails crooked, jagged, look snag, books in the bag Jelly filled wash in the whale skin embossed in my cross hairs Got nobody to cross what we lost here It was a salty year, struttin' in the pumpkin fields Reminisce the dump and touch the scar, fake caviar luncheon Where my life and fate met, encased in a grey sweat Thinkin' we're monte, crepe, like suzette Water dime and time, went into the diamond mines Now I got a half a ounce of tar in each breath And stress in each step Never on holiday, my island's just a mind away I close my eyes today Pass a psychic on the pier, what I'm doin' here? As if the answer wasn't clear, she said it's been a year And piece together like collage all my greatest fears My stubbled year, my missin' souvenir [Hook: Hemlock Ernst] And where's Ken at, where the bins stacked? Pickin' up the pieces where you been at And I been flyin' letters through the gym stack Buildin' fires with my queen, that's where I been at Buildin' fires with my queen, my earth
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