Tinfoil Slip Songtext

Who really cares 'bout god's new shoes?
Just stay high, and it feels like a dream.

Your long hair my brain box screaming to
dipping strong for momma's waist
That proves the way that Brooklyn stayed
the way that madness changes taste
wherever you drag your feet

I've seen you this way before
who really cares?
Things they work, they see
Who really cares 'bout your wildest dream?
Who really cares 'bout god's new shoes?
Just stay high, and it feels like a dream.

The days and the nights
of the world, they get quiet
and I can't hear a thing through the girls
dripping mouths full of smoke and the soft boiling ash of the skin
makes the glass of my eyes shake
like merry-go-rounds in 1906.

The ins
and the outs
of the truth
they don't matter
when you can't tell
if god's really there
with your hands
o'er your mouth
in the sky
pokes our ribs
and we turn
into wind
carrying love on our backs
you've got to
be strange
just to get in.