sole, alias, dose one:
we ain't fessin' this friendship, all live crews turn to dust.
we're from the middle of nowhere, da dadu dada.
if you want to high post, i'll watch you fall off a pedestal.
we feel safe on the soapbox, da dede du dede da.
it's the return of the demo, and you can't dub us over.
we're being ourselves, why the secret decoder?
we ain't fessin', hell read it, ain't a one trick intention.
keep your guilt to yourself, da dede du dede deda.
it's as danceable and positive tip as it is a movement and dark.
signing is so relative, why even sign art?
we ain't fessin'.

dose one:
i ain't business man hollow, i ain't happy man meat.
i see the sky as a socket, i can't sleep, i don't eat.
but there's a bird in my throat, and a ghost in my place, so i wail.
i am to the truth as the truth is to coincidence.
imagine holding onto one quarter for the rest of your life.
so i broke, thunder words beside a cork set.
holy smokes! english class was vomit, it's hip hop music,
let me get the chills. where my good people at?
i need a cat sitter, and don't give up on the song write, 'cause
lethal ain't fessin'
we ain't fessin'.

alias:
with the tintinnabulation heard above every third word, through sealed
lashes, unleash the past. i grasp at straws. who's the victor?
i ask the mannequins with detachable hands, hidden from their reach to
pass the dutchie on the left hand side. currently reside in
opposing currents, making for an interesting commute.
i do the kick step, in an attempt to reacquaint myself to what i thought
i was in love with, plus to boot, i'd like to return to excitement
of one strap down with my reflection in my shoes,
and the practiced frown that carried over and cursed me
with being unapproachable. why you jelling?
you know why...
we ain't fessin'.

sole:
how am i? i'm good, but the real good stuff won't make it to page.
i applied for howard hughes but live off less than minimum wage.
how are they? the same as last time i saw them,
waiting for nintendo games to turn to money trees, and all that's
cool to no shows. and we turned everything around and gave them "kick me"
signs, mine's too short to get direction from college grads
who can't change car tires. is it me or is everything in here
boring to death and wants you to date it?
only interesting long enough to make you hate it.
i've spend the last ten years drawing curtains to hide behind.
i'll be damned if they give my job to some snot nosed mc look alike,
who matches hundred dollar shoes with hundred dollar shirts.
straight from the sole, i ain't fessin'...

sole, alias, dose one:
we ain't fessin'.
two and a half since we met.
we'll be rich in six months.
no friends, no choice.
no friends, no choice, no deal.
all of this for next to nothing.