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Dirty Projectors
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Imagine It
Throw it inside your friend's head
No caffeine pills on prescription
Just you and simple mud that you've tracked in there
What slips between the creases
Could easily fool or bamboozle you
The oriental rock of the colonialist
Stolen out from under his big brass desk
For a street parade to the community college
Or a magic carpet ride on Broad Street
If you can imagine it, imagine it
Burning the midnight oil
So fierce it's trucked in the lap of the powerful
Maybe that's part of your resource
And just as nervous, she's demure as milk
Blank as a bamboo casket
She's a basket of good will
Two red brows, two proud rows
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The talking breakfast full of shit blues
The detail's what you lose
In the Peking sunset
To which we pitch our trash dreams
And our friends sit back, zip by
Abiding the only practice with traditious sounds
Or the psychopath among us
Like a serendipis with anti-fashion
A rainbow quilt frayed around the edges is charismatic
Got grease on my hand like Arab oil
Plants my seeds in arid soil
Give me some frown in my terrible toil
But I'll look after you
I'll look after you
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