Semblance Lyrics

This town is like a cannon

Shooting blood, and rocks, and ice.

I bet I'd make a killing selling

Bags of brown basmatti rice.

The treasure is a tin can

Spring loaded like a lock

I wanna put away my ticket

Hung on the median line, like a spoil't Shiraz.

Whoa down, doggie daddy!

Meet me, your skin so gangrenous

Like a sound of a scream so tantalous

The bass player's tryna' dismantle us again.

Rossie, Rossie

Why so sad?

Do you feel it make no sense?

Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, angel

OK Computer, won't you play us out again?

And close the book, the seaweed spouts: "Jillayne."

Well, the monkey pee's not workin',

You smashed a while back

And the baby bottom baby's

Got your roster now, so simmer down.

It's just my luck to find

A married pal like this.

Do you prefer a marriage vow aloud?

Like a down and out metropolis.

On the corner of Canseco

Can you feel your Chakra's click?

Let the mile high flavor

Make a fortress

Make desire eclipse again.

Rossie, Rossie

Why so sad?

Do you feel it make no sense?

Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, angel

OK Computer, won't you play us out again?

And close the book, the seaweed spouts: "Jillayne."

Well, the Roman numeral's knockin',

At the Neutral Milk Hotel;

Hello, John Prine! Hello Noah!

A round of buzzard shells!

With the winging of a take home

Semblance can suck me now

Disease and serendipities

Oh, pull my heart-brain, love abound.

And I gotta lotta calendars,

So Freemasonry's a go!

Long Tall Sally's ego,

Get your stones and rocks a box to go and grow again!

Rossie, Rossie

Why so sad?

Do you feel it make no sense?

Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, angel

OK Computer, won't you play us out again?

And close the book, the seaweed spouts: "Jillayne."

Not a messa blue broken Oboes

An elbow bends so wrong

Khalil Gibran and fireworks

Amidst a sandy, setting song.

Catch the umpire sellin'

Courtney, nigh the end.

(Improvised)

Gossip, lies, amends.

So, you're moppin' it up when it gets too hard.

Point me to the pain.

Let me be extraordinary.

I'm stable, my saddle's fresh, but I'm spoilt sour again!

Rossie, Rossie

Why so sad?

Do you feel it make no sense?

Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, Jillayne, angel

OK Computer, won't you play us out again?

And close the book, the seaweed spouts: "Jillayne."