Jam Baxter, Kae Tempest - Unsubscribe lyrics

You left your face in the
Crotch of a bad night
Your morals are a flea-bitten rug on the
Floor and these people are lads mags
Speaking cliches in their glad rags
Holding back the flood, sandbags
It used to be alright round here
Said Grandad
But now he’s staggering around and
He’s looking for a Poundland
And all he found was ‘exposed’
Beans and no ketchup
Sriracha and eggs for twelve-fifty, etcetera
Bargaining with hardening arteries the
Marketing barks at us
It’s hard to trust anything asked of us
Gambling with nothing but a
Handful of temazepam
And strangling a mannequin for minutes
Before managing to extricate yourself
And back to business
Back to dangling the carrot on the stick
Your teeth are rattling like tambourines
It’s an intravenous ambushing Adidas
With the candlestick
Ripped between her fingers for the
Kiddies that believed it
Man, these imbeciles are leaders
And they’re quick to spread diseases
When they interface and every
Other Beavis on the internet is
Eager to be visible even in the middle of
Another metaphysical discovery
It’s pitiful performances
Slapstick, jack-of-all trades and
Opinionated Autobots, an awful lot to say
Hmm
It’s so real when you skin yourself alive
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The receding hairline left the face
Tats hanging on his
Forehead on crags of his skin shrouded in fog
Between the red wrinkles read, "LOVE, SEX
DEATH" in a child’s font
He stirred and murmured out to my squad
His ghouls found him a job mopping the
Floors with his enormous absorbent eyes
Clogged with Insta models in
Shorts flogging the corpse
Of the rave with daddy’s walking stick
Stop hogging the aux, man

So here’s to the rabid dog on the porch
Drooling at obese little piglets
Popping their corks
That shoot for the city streets where
Children rob them for sport
Shoving in wet cement into
Every bottomless thought
We’ll line our arteries with all
Of you one day
Specks of fat splatter the skinny
Little alleyways round here
No one answers your ringing eardrums
Eye sockets set to vibrate
So bell the delivery drug man for
The third time and transform
From starlet to addict in the
Swing of a car door
Melted skin slop on the passenger
Seat fizzes and pops
We found God on the corner at half-four
I thought you were hardcore in
Your barbed wire running shoes
Now you leave a telltale trail of blood
And booze every time your muscles move
Skin rifles through a hundred hues
And settles on swamp green
Eternally fitting
And they became the insects drowning in
Their craft beers that barely
Crawled out of the sum of her last year alive
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