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Song Credits:
Produced By Hanni El Khatib & Leon Michels
Additional Production By Aesop Rock

Lyrics:
Bamboo shoots, Buddhas and removed shoes, pugilism brewing over whose tuk-tuk’s whose, moving through the super-moon with goonies off a distant block, and fugitives from Dusit Zoo, in pleasant moods until they’re not, present mood a startling departure from the temple rules, part of it’s the temperature, part of it’s the tentacles, AQI alarming, surgical masks marching, the durian got him gagging, the traffic is anarchy, um, Siam spy cam, try him in fire, I’m marigolds and Muay Thai into the eye of the tiger, I almost died on a scooter, I almost died on a boat, I figure fuck it, baby, come as you are and die as you go, North bound, Lopburi, where it’s humans: zero, monkeys: one, humans fear the monkey won, get your mirrored sunnies run, later watched a billion bats exploding out a mountain cave, climbed a couple hundred feet to stare into the mouth and change, descended a little different, every atom individually cleansed and repositioned, that’s one unconventional exorcism for the kiddo, hearts on his pillow, bars on the window, bar band send it from John Denver to G-n-R, midnight playing sardines to the sleeper car, 13 hours, couldn’t sleep at all, even eating weed it’s hard to catch a Z, over all the sneeze and cough, jeez

I might never make it out, if I ever make it out send me back in, got lost got found, got a feeling I should lose it all again

OK, heaven is a humid room, it emulate a human womb, everyday we celebrate a water birth in noodle soup, and cruise around as ronin trying to expedite a slow death, playing chicken with a family of 5 on the same moped, golden lotus that show off a pretty pantone, and grow in river water that’ll melt your fucking hand off, damn, it’s funny ‘cause I fake a smile too, people thinking you’re ok until you take ‘em to the root, I’m a take ‘em to the root, through insatiable depravity and layers of abuse, down to radiate the truth, ok, my homie said “I just got blessed by a monk”, I said “I got no frame of reference, god is dead where I’m from”, still I been doing what I can to get these devils expunged, lately it’s laying sugarcane across an elephant’s tongue, I’m wading out into the mud to scrub her belly and trunk, brushing that yellow off her tusks, shit is better than drugs, it feels strange, hurdling emaciated strays, even stranger days later when I’m no longer phased, locals see a space garbage that fell from the interstellar, trying to blend in with the smell of peppers, sweat and citronella - ella, sore thumb in the hum of the helter-skelter, rebels huffing through the temple run like Zelda’s in the cellar, every L.D. call an awful omen, excuse me while I walk into the ocean, like
 
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