Intro
(Louis Mackey)
It's early in the morning before the city's awake
I'm busy forging the words that can get me to grace
No slippery slopes or apologetic diatribes
I'll die tonight if you find a lie in this entire rhyme
I got Leviathan in my eyes again, doing it now
A beautiful sound, no motherfucking humans allowed
The earth looks pretty from here, as I'm eyein our chances
The cities appear on the dark side of the planet

(Thirtyseven)
Five oclock in the morning, somehow I'm still awake
These are not rhymes, these are thought crimes in fifty states
The cops showed, we chill and wait, got stoned and still escaped
Run for blocks, buzzing off the blood in Bob Dylan's veins
...see, I always figured that I'd probably die
Before I ever became a sane and responsible guy
So I try the meet and greet but I can never relate
Because to me you're venison steaks doing impressions of apes

(Louis Mackey)
The fee is free, you just need to see and open your eyes
And even me, I'm a measly seed in a ocean of time
Every moment is a gift, totally beholden to which
We solely exist because of one fortunate tick
And when it's over, it's it, kiss the coldest abyss
I do not owe you shit knowing this is
No hope or a trick that's eventually going to fix
Your worldview unless we successfully explode it to bits
(Thirtyseven)
And now the plot thickens as the picture is distorted
Yeah, I sound a lot different on original recordings
Got a high sensitivity to Zen simpilicity
But kids who try to mimic me can visit the
Emergency room, passed you off to the surgery crew
Because I am not in the building or the shirt or the mood
To spend time working with you, dude, honest assessment:
I have not been impressed with the way a lot of you rep it

(Lou)
Whatever I'm stuck on today I can shoe it aside
Look out in the beautiful wide and my ego crumbles away
You humans can lie and tell yourselves you're something in space
But the assumption is based on a clutching to faith
The cuffs and constraints and fundamental debates
Of which under the face is really governed by hate
And when the covenant breaks and there's nothing to save us
We'll burn slow then return home as we come to a quasar

(Thirtyseven)
..yeah, that's that Big Picture that I'm talking about
That's the final frontier...and that's Freemasons locking us out
So when I smoke my salvia, that's straight space science
Till I can upgrade to enough space to raise lions
Cuz if I build there first, fuck you, the moon is mine
That's the main reason I waste weed on stupid rhymes
Im just raising the funds to aim for the sun
...guess the rest of you can stay in your huts and wait for the Flood