Rowan Nygard - Molt Lyrics

I feel like leaves in the summer time 919, 98, number 9
I got the lemons and limes for my liver and kidney
I feel like Whitney in summer time
Pop out the trees for two pennies, that's your opinion
That's two cents, this the blueprint, for a young kid spitting pretty
And looking better, pronounce it right, ain't no extra letter
I get the feta, f*ck all my fetishes, you can do better
Put your holiday on a stretcher, and I'm outta your league
If you f*ck with the settlers, huh, whoah, you could do better
Switch off my cellular treasure island with the shits new horizons
With the shits moon is rising with the shits she crying diamonds in the whip, lord, hop out, hold up
Do I, do I put plus or regular in here?
Spanking the spanking the state lines till the engine fails or my pension fails
I'm tired of all of this tension
I can feel it in the air, hair all in my eyes so I'm blind to the beauty
I can taste it in the water, martyr but I let it slide like ain't no-one on duty
Let it slide. let it slide. let it slide. let it slide
Let it rain

Till plants growing spring again gotta stop meeting like this in the garden
With grape stems and empty wine bottles folded crime novels
Cause Agatha Christie and poe in our history this shit a mystery
Bringing in heavy artillery not for the mercy or misery imagine
Somewhere out in Sicily you remember Italy?

In adidas, sword drawn, slaying my demons and bygones
With poetry in the motion and motion in poetry
You didn't notice me open mouth hanging closed and teeth clenched smoking a cigarette
Where the sidewalk ends and the tale begins
I really don't know who this rowan is maybe another Odysseus
Know that I'm serious furious laughing and curious lean it back
And then finish it finish him see if I give a shit
Wimbledon limited lucid with cinnamon peep all the syllables
Strong tongued, sound mind, but come and see me when I unwind
Yeah
Come and see me when I unwind

Like hold the f*ck up how you not put the roses I gave you in water
Now they dying on the kitchen counter, typical Monday
Run for the oneway draped in this runaway

Praying to gods that I do not believe in, preaching at friends
When they offa the drink and i'm offa the deep end depending on deep ends
I might have to dive in I drive in complain bout climate
Discard all these rillo's a virus I spread over planets I'm private and quiet
Hold my privates like you hold your crystals, like you wear your diamonds
I'm loud about pistols and missiles not solving our problems
A bottomless pit of the blossoms and toxins I get from the cigarettes