Aesop Rock - Fryerstarter lyrics

Let me put you up on Bob's donuts
Controller of the warm deep
Fryer that charms cobras
Mostly it was aggravated ulcers
Over goat's legs
Will they go for maple, custard
Buttermilk or wolfs bane?
Hm, late after your cinderella pulsate and
Crash I was rotating casts
Picture if you will a witching hour on
A week night in the trenches
Where paranoia dead-ends in a
Bright florescent heaven
With sprinkles, I know right yum
Whether tummy ache or fever
Keep the funnel cake I'm honey glaze in vitro
In the company of similar believers
Sleepless, who hear the walls breathe and
Foam at the facial features now the yeast
A phoenix in the partially hydrogenated
Equal parts flour, faith, healing
Might replace your previously nominated Jesus
But only if you privy to the
Following secret of all secrets

Shh, every night at 12 they would
March out from the back
With a tray of raw dough for
The pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 never get your God back
If you're just tuning in, walk into the light
Walk into the light

I boil oil too, not for scarfing
For CCs of Japanese innovation that
Screech into free parking
Purple heart and second chin that beseech him
To squeeze the carbs into the motherboard
You can chew the Eucharist in cruller form
Locally a seedy danish underworld is bustling
Where jelly's not a celebrated stuffing
It's a puppet string pluck, nose for canola
5 cow stomachs like a mime
With a rope going nowhere
Fast, right hand of god on
My shoulder, crows feet swollen, dopey
Combing apple fritters over with
Folk of opposing cultures
Baby sitter cop thief reverend
Body glitter, botched c-section
Bronze teeth
Each progressively more sequestered
Yet if threatened will defend the
Raisin bread as codefendants
Some lose religion or view it as superstition
You can tell a friend if you
Are down to kill them

Shh, every night at 12 they would
March out from the back
With a tray of raw dough for
The pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 never get your God back
If you're just tuning in, walk into the light
Walk into the light

The fat boys are back
Foam fingers over open arms
To feverishly reclaim their stomachs
From golden jars
And stagger through the pulse of the
Gulch on a builder's dividends
Hiding high behind his
Guilty powdered-sugar fingerprints
Seething eventide fever
Sidewalk feeling a little dicey
I'm snake-eye straight to the cakes icing
Might, fortune-teller up your favorite
Paper tiger stripe great, grace invaders
The first name basis patron haters
Who compromise the pilot lights and flavors
Silent night, holy night
Invite the pious out the pagan
Midnight kitchen doors un-caging the enablers
Like butchers in bloody aprons
Can I get a fucking amen? (Amen)
Hazelnut raiders of the lost
Navigate consecutive pastries like stations
Of the cross no name no dayjob
Know the folk where it virgin
Mary toast by the loaf thanks Bob

Shh, every night at 12 they would
March out from the back
With a tray of raw dough for
The pool of hot fat
Show up around 1 never get your god back
If you're just tuning in, walk into the light