Busdriver - Upsweep lyrics

Upsweep, upsweep, upsweep, upsweep
Upsweep, upsweep, upsweep, upsweep

Yeah, yeah can you, can you
Can you hear me? I'm speaking through you
The signal weakens from this begrizzled
Beacon so pay attention

We painted our faces on a permanent moon to
Avoid being type cast as surrogate coons
But there is no treatment for American gloom
So I'm taking my reverberant room
And I'm gone far where the money is sheet
Music and discarded doodles, yeah
(yeah) the company that they're working
For cut had spending
Bringing our barbarisms to abrupt ending
But, if you think it's
Me that you're up-ending
We could be grinding
Even if it's gut wrenching and we're on one
Like we're knee deep in drug-vending
Fuck lemmings
Whose love spending gives us the best things
Like a J down the space suit of sweat stained
The undercovers gave me a cute pet name
Now I'm being targeted by jet-plane
Because I'm so motherfucking subversive
With excessive panache, I'm dressed in a sash
My name is a number, an X and a dash
Embedded in mass who stole all the savings
Had sex with the cash

As far as these lives, we get one each
And then our bodies are tucked
In the junk heap
But all these mistakes do tend to cut deep
I swear I can hear you die
Just a little bit in the

Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep, upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep, sweep

Yo dangling in a thread of my temporal lobe
I thrust my fist up life's freckled nose
Then walked around like I
Had genitals to hold
It wasn't for embezzled gold
It was just for you, and you, and you
Don't propose a toast for unusual hosts
Using musical notes to fuel the U-Boats
(you pricks) all the credit inside of
Your checking account
Sit's in a mechanized, sexless mouth
And getting it back, boy, the pressure mounts
So you're having a stroke and
The medic's en route this is the ending
I was showing niggas that
I had exquisite taste
Now I'm locked out of all of my vivid scapes
And the capital gains is the Christian faith
Of the livid apes, staying in debate
Over the unhappy lives that we have to live
But we still do it, eating inkjets
Building swing sets from dragon ribs
All the internet chatter is a
Byproduct of my madness
Turning me into a vapid and
Glib and capitalist pig
I didn't notice until now that
A shoe's a phone
For what reason would any tycoon atone?
But for me to find money I
Need to get a dune combed
Because I'm so motherfucking self-destructive
I'm caressing a rash from a decadent past
My judgment calls are second, at last
I'm rendered in ash when I ingest the asp

As far as these lives, we get one each
Then our bodies are tucked in the junk heap
But, I can't afford all the upkeep
I swear I can hear myself die
Just a little bit in the

Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep, upsweep (Upsweep)
L'upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep (Upsweep) upsweep (Upsweep)
Upsweep upsweep
L'upsweep l'upsweep
L'upsweep