JungleJuice

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Rory Leon

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Don't play with me
Don't pull my leg, go'n break what the good lord gave to me
I'd end up dead, and that don't make scared
Its polite to accept gifts graciously
It's so not fair, so you knock-knock and I'm on the couch and I'm still not there
I don't know my name
Why don't ask the fae
Why don't ask the breeze that's blowing through my hair
I say coast
I'm just go'n drive the distance
It's still a Cali' sunset even in New York
Or Rhode Island because I'm still Cali' living
Big smoke n' big fucking chilling
I just like to float through horizons
Or maybe just your eyes when I'm high I don't mind admitting
No I doesn't mind, but said it better in another time
In a vibe I was high lemme find the written
I don't guide I'm just loud when ain't tryna fit in
I don't hide just can't be found when ya' tryna get him
And when ya ain't tryin to get him, like why ya ain't tryna get him
Where the love where the fans cheerin' an rippin' at denim
Where my Dad I ain't seen him in awhile bet he still keeps our painting in the foyer
Like he ever really was a good Dad that's right really better forget him

I'm in this Kafka-esque nightmare I'm proud to call home
Where the guns are all cheap and the weed is home grown
Where we whistle at police so we know that there's police and we don't f*ck with police so we can get the f*ck on 
When a need for some space
Buy a pack of swisher sweets
Just to roll up this weed and get real blown
But when you think deep down
With money and the weed
That none of these things makes you feel less alone

I love life, I love death in the same way
Infatuated, infantilized by it
Spacey...
Roll call...
No call back...
No phone dials...
No tarot decks
I don't wanna die little, I don't want a flash in the pan wanna light up the sky in the night make the sky sizzle
But...still wanna die, riddle
I don't wanna die simple, wanna martyr out fight the king till the axe get cracked in the crown and the gem get Split down the whole middle in blinks
I'm so silly I thinks, my mind gets dried out when I drink, I'm dry, that's ironic, I think too much I titanic I sink
No lifeguard I might panic, and all my gills left on the landing, that dock on the bays a misunderstanding
It ain't meant for relax, it was meant for work
So what's left is damaged, I'm an underdog, wont be under handed
Unless they suit them up and they pallbearer me, and close my casket
Even than I'd be the last one laughin'
Like how the f*ck you gonna follow that one
This is real life, aint a final fight, or a fantasy or a Hollow Bastion
Go and struggle once and its everlasting

I'm in this Kafka-esque nightmare I'm proud to call home
Where the guns are all cheap and the weed is home grown
Where we whistle at police so we know that there's police and we don't f*ck with police so we can get the f*ck on
When a need for some space
Buy a pack of swisher sweets
Just to roll up this weed and get real blown
But when you think deep down
With money and the weed
That none of these things makes you feel less alone

I'm in this Kafka-esque nightmare I'm proud to call home
Where the guns are all cheap and the weed is home grown
Where we whistle at police so we know that theres police and we dont f*ck with police so we can get the f*ck on
When a need for some space
Buy a pack of swisher sweets
Just to roll up this weed and get real blown
But when you think deep down
With money and the weed
That none of these things makes you feel less alone

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