Tasmanian Pain Coaster

[Intro: From the 1992 film "Fire Walk With Me"]

Do you think that if you were falling in space

That you would slow down after a while, or go faster and faster?

Faster and faster...

For a long time you wouldn't feel anything...

Then you would burst into into fire, for ever

And the angel's won't help you, 'cause they've all gone away...

(Un, dos, un, dos, tres, quatro)

I saw this kid walking down the street

I was like "wait" (echoes)

[El-P]

Bumped into this kid I knew, he often would walk strange

So I ignored the blood on his laces so this cat could save face

The dunks and the gaze stayed in an off grey haze

And the lump in his pocket talked to the ox that he clutched safe

So I saluted him there, waiting for the A

Trapped on the empty platform without the option to escape

Gave him the standard: "Yo, what up man, how you landin'?"

And the hypnotized response was no surprise: "I maintain"

"Yeah we all do, that's the standardized refrain

but on some really real man, good to see you, really, what the dealy deal?"

Oops, fuck, screwed the pooch, asked too much, knew the truth

On the train now, a caboose

In his brain now, no recluse

80 blocks to uptown spot, destination vocal booth

Metro-card like: "you get what you pay for, stupid", no excuse

He pulled his hoody off his cabbage rugged practical

And began to fancy the words I mistakenly jostled loose

The stogie he brazenly lit where he sit looked legit

But when the flame touched to the tip I could smell it's of another nit

He leaned his head back and inhaled the newpie dip and said

"The whole design got my mind cryin', if I'm lyin' I'm dyin'..shit"

This is the sound of what you don't know killing you

This is the sound of what you don't believe still true

This is the sound of what you don't want still in you

TPC motherfucker, cop a feel or two

The whole design got my mind cryin', if I'm lyin' I'm dyin'

Dyin', I'm flyin', the same line, no disguise, guy...I'm bent up

Know the sky's high by coincidence and I'm tied blind insignificant

To the ground function I'm Munsoned, it's the dreaded 7/10 split again

The medic made it out to be, epidemic shaded...wow for me

Evidence of pressures mounting, residential shroud: King's County

Brotherhood of the working wounded, wounded working city unit

Taking out the trash and strappin in, let's get it movin', stupid

Many men make moves more useless, use abuse quick

Losers, juiceless

Bitch, either speak the truth or you leave toothless

Two fists of the furiously ruthless

Justice for my very own amusement with no regard for the conclusion

I swagger with rats tappin' the glass in a Gov. lab

Pass me the gloves, mask and flask of the cheapest liquor you have

In the back of the tasmanian path, insane again laughin

Cacklin' at the randomness of the city and all its facts

The dark art of interrogation agent skippin' class

And at last in a flash on my tip toes walkin' on cracked glass

Gats blast and wiz by fast or just catch in my calves like "hold that!"

In other words: I'm trash, glad you asked

This is the sound of what you don't know killing you

This is the sound of what you don't believe still true

This is the sound of what you don't want still in you

TPC motherfucker, cop a feel or two

Your future's uncertain here now

The plot smears on the wall

Said, your future's uncertain here now

The plot smears on the wall