Songtexte You Are Go(o)d to Me - Milo
                                                Happy 
                                                New 
                                                Year 
                                                everybody
 
                                    
                                
                                                I'm 
                                                susceptible 
                                                to 
                                                your 
                                                lies
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                want 
                                                to 
                                                be 
                                                objectified 
                                                without 
                                                concern 
                                                for 
                                                systems
 
                                    
                                
                                                Naturally 
                                                nervous 
                                                disposition 
                                                brims
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                concerns 
                                                and 
                                                contradictions
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                contrapositive 
                                                impoverished 
                                                heart 
                                                stems
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                I'm 
                                                Bart 
                                                Simpson
 
                                    
                                
                                                I've 
                                                known 
                                                the 
                                                nothingness 
                                                of 
                                                chaos
 
                                    
                                
                                                I've 
                                                known 
                                                the 
                                                somethingness 
                                                of 
                                                fake 
                                                Gods
 
                                    
                                
                                                I've 
                                                been 
                                                out 
                                                of 
                                                place 
                                                like 
                                                transitional 
                                                lenses
 
                                    
                                
                                                Comma 
                                                splices 
                                                in 
                                                    a 
                                                suspended 
                                                sentence
 
                                    
                                
                                                Kiss 
                                                the 
                                                nose 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                vulture, 
                                                destroy 
                                                the 
                                                broke 
                                                culture
 
                                    
                                
                                                That's 
                                                what 
                                                    I 
                                                was 
                                                sent 
                                                to 
                                                do 
                                                with 
                                                    a 
                                                paper 
                                                box 
                                                of 
                                                cherry 
                                                cordials
 
                                    
                                
                                                Already 
                                                forgot 
                                                what 
                                                I'm 
                                                meant 
                                                to 
                                                prove
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                    I 
                                                kicked 
                                                the 
                                                air 
                                                like 
                                                I'm 
                                                Bruce 
                                                Lee
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                mumbled 
                                                like 
                                                I'm 
                                                Tunechi
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                felt 
                                                it 
                                                in 
                                                my 
                                                cheek 
                                                bones
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                kicked 
                                                the 
                                                air 
                                                like 
                                                I'm 
                                                Bruce 
                                                Lee
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                mumbled 
                                                like 
                                                I'm 
                                                Tunechi
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                felt 
                                                it 
                                                in 
                                                my 
                                                cheek 
                                                bones
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can 
                                                eat, 
                                                gray 
                                                clumps 
                                                of 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Melancholy 
                                                men 
                                                are 
                                                always 
                                                witty, 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                wonder 
                                                why
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                have 
                                                    a 
                                                secret 
                                                language
 
                                    
                                
                                                Communicating 
                                                in 
                                                blinks 
                                                and 
                                                strange 
                                                twitches
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                brain 
                                                itches 
                                                and 
                                                I'm 
                                                looking 
                                                at 
                                                pictures
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                I'm 
                                                looking 
                                                at 
                                                pictures 
                                                of 
                                                pictures 
                                                on 
                                                Instagram
 
                                    
                                
                                                Feeling 
                                                like 
                                                the 
                                                Vicar 
                                                of 
                                                    a 
                                                little 
                                                land
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                spans 
                                                the 
                                                length 
                                                of 
                                                this 
                                                Afghan 
                                                which 
                                                is 
                                                not 
                                                below 
                                                my 
                                                knees
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                would 
                                                make 
                                                you 
                                                breakfast 
                                                with 
                                                Raspberries
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                pick 
                                                out 
                                                the 
                                                seeds, 
                                                using 
                                                nothing 
                                                but 
                                                my 
                                                little 
                                                fingers
 
                                    
                                
                            1 Yafet's Song
2 Sanssouci Palace
3 Thatness and Whatness
4 You Are Go(o)d to Me
5 Buck 65's Knee
6 In Gaol (feat. Kool AD)
7 Salladhor Saan, Smuggler
8 Peanut Butter Sandwiches
9 Ought Implies Can and I Cannot
10 Objectifying Rabbits
11 Just Us (A Reprise for Robert Who Will Never Be Forgotten)
12 Gaudeamus Igitur (for Kang Min-gyu)
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