Idlehands Damon Francisco
Now lay it back, put that head in the rest while the pre-
roll drags.
Just take it fast and let that height swag flash onto a
tag.
Either way, Post is selling the sparks.
My knees are turning, your eyes are burning, its raining
on Ashbury.
Focus slide to the wharf and consume some time.
Ain’t it nice that our minds are time? That our tastes
are right to snuff a fight.
Same one flown from home to be like us.
In time we’ll all be alike. In time we’ll all be alike.
Fall back to an inland line since our coats won’t be dry.
God said, “Hate the city for its full of sick, sick
fags.”
But the devil spun around and shot that space alone.
My knees are turning, your eyes are burning, its raining
on Ashbury.
Focus slide to the wharf and consume some time.
Refugees don’t come free, but don’t worry I’ll be the
Christ they need.
Fall back to an inland line since our coats won’t be dry.
God said?
Heaven never even told me no, and is it hell if I’m not
here alone?
Now lay it back, put that head in the rest while the pre-
roll drags.
My knees are turning, your eyes are burning, its raining
on.
