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lirik lagu holy mackerel – sizable logan

the 13*year*old has a point

[luke stout]
trapped in a room so loud, can’t hear myself think
hoping soon to get back out on the rink
he dropped a weight and cracked the sink
it happens before the eye can blink
i can think of what must become of the articulation
so if you feel vexed, i recommend resist the temptation
known very well that my words are a stimulation
and so if you want to quote me, just please use a citation

some might consider my a hefty word*slinger
really i think i prefer the term poem*singer
some might consider my a hefty word*slinger
really i think i prefer the term poem*singer

not quite so orthodox, the philosophy of slaying the paarthurnax
while the warlord repent, and your forsworn get bent
i have sworn to never spend more than a single ounce of effort
on the peasants or their sensitivities, slap them with a fish if they diss me
with their hateful tendencies, this is not for the enemies
of everything that i stand for with solemnity
opposition, cheat the system
quick decisions, jesus christ arisen, speaking christian
spitting vicious diction, how’s that for wisdom
[sizable logan]
scathing through the mess of halls, my friends and monologues
take stance on mountaintops and work to bend the odds
monetizing prime to toe the lines of overtime
’til 25, i scribe my lines, embed my mind in pith and rhyme
and in my eye contact impeding on implicit diction
marks the hollow barrel of an oak tree with a casket prison
tasked with coping thoughts of orthodontic tokes of *n*logues
and spokes of bikes i had but never saw in visitant
i speak assessments ciphered for your ear investment
i aspire like clive staples for growth from trunks to tested maple
and having questions like champs who struggle taking soundwaves
people talking down on him, and an hour ’til the ground game
i borrow time, these villagers with their closed minds
could never tip*toe to body all the language and proper nouns i find
the stencil stigmatized and felines scissor lines
and paste into poet partition buried ’neath wallpaper missing
i lag behind on every snare so drop a synth and pitch it
wherever our cultivated taste takes us, relates us
delaying that sense of urgency
while i engineer machines to earn these points that sum to arbitrary
considerations that were otherwise never mentioned
i never feared the shining truth, the totem pole, the howling sentiments
bated breath and constants met against the odds of an n by m matrix
i digress and place my head into a
bird’s eye nest and looking down upon the nested text
awakening to the sunset and eminent until my last breath
vocal virtuosos with a kin for words and breathy torsos
you tried to think too little, i was busy thinking moreso

- sizable logan

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