Elf Racket - Album Lyrics

(Lyrics by Rob Freeman)

An Historic Mid-Air Collision

Bad timing for.. a mid-air collision.
He's throwing for.. a no-decision.
This is not good for the establishment.
Fuckin' up everything with co-management.
We're on life support.
Our backing forces bowing out.
..Figure out (don't really want to boy)
See the wake I push out & see the wave it goes.
..I can't read minds
..I can't draw lines, not in the sky.
..Either way it works out, we play the flow.

Nothing But A Stop Sign

..You think it's so logical, and within sight.
But with insight it's nothing.
To fit into a larger role.
In tune if you try,
True to the times you're of.
Where everything's inflatable,
Increasing in size, increasing in size.
And scary winds are fadeable,
Panning sides, repeating forever in strides.
..Well, nice plan. It's unobtainable.
Where I stand, it's so untrainable.

Roger Fenton's Photographic Wagon

We record our advancements, and mark our achievements.. we grow.
(Shady business leaves its mark on the city,
and all the healthy voices choke on the gritty)
Into our arrangements and curse our behaviors, we grow.

Check for a profit, a must in his pocket.
Works for the station, no motivation.
Check for a profit, a must in his pocket.
Leaves the station, what motivation.
Check for a profit, a must in his pocket.
Leave for the station, what motivation.

We record our advancements, and mark our achievements.. we grow.
Into our arrangements and curse our behaviors, we grow.

Rain flows over downtown medians, drip drip on the paved, lit, city roads.
Rain flows over downtown medians, blankets the paved, lit, city roads.

Check for a profit, a must in his pocket.
Works for the station, no motivation.
Works for a profit, a mouse in his pocket.
Leaves the station, no inspiration.

Let's take it back... way back.
Roger Fenton's Wagon.. Photographic Wagon.