Lyrics Coffee (dirty) - Aesop Rock feat. John Darnielle
We
don't
need
no
walkie-talkies,
nope,
no
walkie-talkies,
We
don't
need
your
coughing
when
offing
the
morning
coffee,
no,
We
don't
need
no
walkie-talkies,
nope,
no
walkie-talkies
We
just
want
our
hermitry
to
stay
and
our
coffee
to
go
And
the
last
shall
be,
First
to
immerse
in
the
pass
out
heat,
Face
in
the
mud
where
the
moxie
melt
'Till
he
woke
up
drowning
in
chachkes
hell,
More
in
a
cave
with
a
torch
on
the
wall
Than
a
window
arrangement
of
porcelain
dolls
On
a
brand
new
day,
saw
what
he
saw,
Property
owners
who
crawl
to
the
mall,
With
a
bad
toupee
and
a
face
like
he
author
the
law,
Pace
like
he
mourning
a
loss,
Right
hand
on
a
can
of
worms,
Left
full
of
gold
he
will
trade
for
turf,
I
mean
Thats
O.K.,
you
got
to
answer
to
you
at
the
end
of
the
volatile
day,
But
a
model
of
mercy
and
might?
no
way,
Marionette
who
will
clap
and
obey,
Dude,
look,
all
that
noise?
Call
that
flight
of
the
water
boys,
Meet
and
greet
and
they
all
slap
five,
Cheek
to
cheek
when
they
colonize,
And
a
grown
ass
man
shall
abide
as
he
wish,
Walk
that
path
with
a
dime
and
a
stick,
Walk
that
path
with
a
diamond
and
wine,
Walk
that
path
to
the
firing
line,
Just
walk,
pay
no
mind
To
the
new
recruit
with
the
play-doh
spine,
Let's
be
friends
from
opposite
ends,
Wave
to
the
kid
don't
hop
on
the
fence,
Play
to
the
radius
far
and
away,
Orbit
wide
don't
park
in
his
space,
One
little
martyr
who
talk
in
his
face
Make
one
little
weathermen
sharpen
the
blades.
We
don't
need
no
walkie-talkies,
nope,
no
walkie-talkies,
We
don't
need
your
coughing
when
offing
the
morning
coffee,
no,
We
don't
need
no
walkie-talkies,
nope,
no
walkie-talkies
We
just
want
our
hermitry
to
stay
and
our
coffee
to
go
And
the
last
shall
be,
First
to
the
curb
with
the
mad
cow
meat,
Face
in
the
bars
of
a
regular
cell
When
he
woke
up
high
in
collectible
hell,
Boom
town
kid
who
was
taught
by
the
binge
That
a
man
who
expire
with
the
most
shit
win,
That's
warpy
american
nonsense
penned
by
the
rich,
Not
a
routine
friend
in
a
pinch,
Still
not
used
to
the
stench,
How
it
throws
off
otherwise
lucid
events,
In
the
case
the
afraid
observe
I
got
a
pro-keds
box
full
of
layman's
terms,
it
goes
Hey,
peace,
pray
for
the
plagued,
Major
relief
and
capacious
rains,
But
just
cuz
I
don't
want
to
war
with
you,
It
don't
mean
go
warm
up
the
barbecue,
I'm
like
pardon
you,
sawed
off
limit,
My
high
noon
is
a
quick
little
minute,
I
don't
wanna
spend
it
sitting
with
a
critic,
Who
simply
isn't
going
to
ever
really
get
it,
This
HQ
is
alive
and
alone,
No
driveway
no
sign
of
a
home,
No
dial
tone,
no
line
for
the
phone,
No
world's
tiniest
violin
song,
And
i
might
just
lie
to
them
all,
lie
in
the
morgue
With
a
deep
breath
hiding
and
bored,
Fighting
a
smile,
highly
annoyed,
When
the
timing
is
right
I
will
rise
and
record,
Call
for
the
monster
beats
and
blockhead
got
Animal
drums
like
he's
doctor
teeth,
It
goes
red
light
green
light
12 3,
One
large
coffee,
fuck
you,
peace.
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S
John
Darnielle:
I
crawled
down
to
the
basement
When
the
weather
got
cold,
Like
a
lost
lamb
returning
to
the
fold,
And
when
the
outside
world
recedes
from
view,
It's
just
a
year's
supply
of
make-up
And
memories
of
you,
1967
colt
45,
holding
back
the
vampires,
Keeping
me
alive,
There's
an
envelope
with
some
cash
in
it
Out
by
the
front
door,
This
is
what
they
make
you
take
the
medication
for

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