There’s a quiet in my head that I’ve been scratching at forever/
A quiet in my head that I’ve been scratching at forever/
There’s a quiet in my head that I’ve been scratching at forever/
There’s a quiet in my head/
I’m a wax Valentino at my best/
So Hollywood should know me when I’m dead/
And if I scream into the void anymore I’ll become it/
Learn the lesson of the fall or to weep in the plummet?/
I see you when you’re coming and I need to confront it/
But my speech has been flummoxed since I reached that summit/
Used to bleed from my stomach when I’d eat, I’d be punished/
In a weeks worth of summers I would reek of a bummer, yeah/
And I’m a late bloomer too/
These two kicks in October got a June hue/
Prove it, shouted over cops at high noon/
A paper boat of anger as flotsam ensues/
Put up your dukes oh enemy of mine/
I’ll rage against the light until I’m old enough to die/
Or know that I’m alive, to hold it, I know it’s/
A long ways away until I’m reaping what I’m sewing/
There’s a quiet in my head/
That I’ve been scratching at forever/
There’s a quiet in my head/
Oh Angel Face, long have my eyes been so fixed on you/
If only in the Year of the Tooth/
…what’s this I’ve been gifted?/
The blood of the lamb or a triptych/
That screams “I’mma miss this”?/
Three panels hanging from a bit lip/
One too many saying I can’t fix this/
And if I truly met an Angel then I surely won’t forget it/
Hitting every box on my wishlist/
Wish shit was different/
But wishes and wants are addicting/
And I’m trying to stop feeling like I’m missing/
Out on a limb with the hangman’s red on my neck/
Bouncing checks my ass can’t cash/
I’ve been thinking of what could be, I could be last/
Or I could be taken to task, for what imma ask/
It’s all truancy, you and me were never in class/
So who the fuck is gonna toast the flask?/
It’s like that/
Oh Angel Face, long have my eyes been so fixed on you?/
If only in the Year of the Tooth/
One day that I framed, in a painting that hangs/
Above the shelf that my mother reclaimed/
Sinking deeper into memory as heaven replays/
Throughout my brain, like a film with which I’ll always be plagued/
Sanctimonious ways I turn you into what I want/
Growing older, sadder, and horribly gaunt/
A shadow of a doubt, in a whole other haunt/
The last place you’d think to look, a light bulb turns on/
And acts as the ball on a Disney sing-a-long/
Bouncing on top the words of every single fucking song/
That I played along the path, was the math reviewed?/
For all our howling at passive moons/
Should I be mad at you, should I be mad at the source?/
Should I be laughing at the way that I collapse on the floor?/
Should I be grandfathered in to the saddest of lore?/
If I could I fucking would/
Oh Angel Face, long have my eyes been so fixed on you/
If only in the Year of the Tooth/
There’s a quiet in my head/
That I’ve been scratching at forever/
There’s a thousand fucking attics/
In our climbs up to heaven/
There’s a crown and a throne/
Ain’t in pleasant?/
King Coma is present/
King Coma is present/
