Eyedea - Soundtrack of a Romance lyrics

It’s amazing how many drugs you
Find out you actually do
Once you stop doing drugs you know
You quit eating acid and downing booze
But, you still indulge in food, sex
And six billion other nouns
That bury away your so
Called overall addiction
Right now I’m sitting in a hospital waiting
And I’m using my ability or
Or inability to write, as a drug
It sort of isolates me from the
Reality of what’s about to happen

I could vividly recall my mood the
Day that art was murdered
The wind blew a thin layer of
Dust on my garden burger
Everything you knew was sideways and phallic
The highways traffic added
To Friday's madness


The warm wrinkled skin loosely
Hung off earnest cheekbones
Below eyes designed to bury the
Wolf under a sheep's clothes
Some peoples sang, a few begged for change
A young girl skipped along with her
Hand glued to a candy cane i, however
Walked with my back to it as usual
Wanted to turn this dark
Comedy into a musical
I'm used to reflecting the sorrow
The world reflects at me
We're forever intertwined as the
Anxious and angry
The gloom moves into oxygen
Consumed to keep me lost within
A mushroom cloud of toxins deposited
To leave the prophets doomed
There I sat on a lead infested picnic table
Waiting to be born
Carefully evading mating season's evil horns
I keep performing for the
Poets and philosophers
But they don't know I was
Insane before it became popular
I lose something every time I leave my house
Trying to gain something by running my mouth
My conscience don't hold a
Grudge against my impulse
Honesty should be the best policy
But it's not that simple
Have you ever had the sky inject
A cloud into your lymph nodes
So all you see is how she
Gazes through a frameless window?
Everyday I have a new argument with myself
Wonder how I got this far up the ladder
But by now I should have fell
Can't go to heaven, never learned how to pray
Oh well
Rather be in a place with less people anyway
Somewhere between a snare and
The extra-tire hogwash
I got caught in a motion
Of a sex-inspired god talk
My long-lost lover left me to
Date a real artist
Ain't it strange how the whole story can
Be told through a guitar rift
I'm a pretentious vendor of invention
It's a demented way of staying
The center of attention
Take my advice and never take my advice
I haven't left my own head long
Enough to really know about life
But, I dug dirt out of the
Ground and found Plato's time capsule
Inside was a note that said, "sorry I lied"
Part of my pride was dead the
Second that you talked to me
And I knew that no matter what lied
Ahead you wouldn't walk with me
So alone I traveled
Clown shoes through dirty speed
Infested tourist colonies
Tricking revolutionaries into thinking
My records a new age life-insurance policy
Then I'm off
And before they get the chance to
Give me a dirty look
Their money's spent at Borders on
A brand new Krishnamurti book
A sturdy hook deserves a better catch phrase
But, I'm only still here
Because they can't detect
Neurotic tendencies with x rays
It was a perfect day to
Sit and watch the wind
Cause the recognition of my insanity
Made me want to be Hip-Hop again

My facial skin feels like potato chips
And the way these lights reflect
Of everyone’s nervous expressions
Reminds me of the fourth grade
A whole month just because I
Couldn’t outrun the enemy
(Football's for idiots) anyway, so
How do you solve the drug problem?
Just move to the desert, quit everything?
I think the trickiest way addiction manifests
Is through the process of ‘giving it up'
So make music

I make music to ride to, to cry to, to die to
Times two
And finally realize you're alive to

I make music to vibe to
To close your eyes to
Break your mind from each vault
That sit's inside you

I make music for survival, to find you
To hide from the landscape
Humanity went blind to

I make music to rhyme to, to waste time to
To die to, to realize I'm alive to

I only pray my lips never follow
The ever so hollow descriptions
Of these pictures in my head
That make me sick i'm the fight between a
God-freak and an atheist
That argue the same point no matter
Which way the conversation drifts
Any human being that believes he's
Truly happy just found
A fake way to escape from his craziness
You know?
I'd trade my dick for a safe place to sit
If I wasn't so afraid of
Grenades made by spaded patriots
I crave a fix teeth grinded
When our hand shakes
So I'm just as approachable as
Any halfway intelligent sadist is
Mary had a little lamb blood
Buried in her sacred wall
Til one by one each belief you've
Ever had raped the bitch