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Metanoia

MGMT


metanoia, reshaping the world
it can teach you
and re-program you
it can show you the flood that's trapped inside.
this one's alive!
the tail is breathing,
and she's listening.
kill the serpent, divide, disperse and grow,
into an oak.
a silver lining on a black scale.
wicked hunter,
on three hooves he still rode,
but where is the fourth?
you can climb there,
to your lofty perch.
It can teach you the fairytale of hurt.

Mystic Referee don't look on me with scorn.
I'm a child, I'm a lover being born.
(satchidananda)
disregard the path I'm on
You can justify the action, should you bless
my ambition and my indecisiveness
(satchidananda)
Let me know that you exist!
Watch me tremble as I'm answering the phone.
I am separate from everything you know.
Mystic referee I promise to return,
once I've given up and lessons have been learned.
(satchidananda)
You can watch my fire burn.

We were talkin junk right,
just before the show.
This wild-eyed kid came up to the fence,
he took one look at us and he said:

"HELP ME, DRUMMER! TICKET! YEAH!"

we didn't play his favorite song.
Now he'll never come to another show.

Hospitals and woods confirm red in the eyes of everyone.
Parasites and lovers scrape the meat from bones,
turned into jade and tiger's eye. Save me some dark hair over a face like her's. She'll help the rain come to a pour. Bathroom floor of stone and tiles broke in two, warm where they touch her porcelain timid skin. I'm careful to untie this road, wrapped in a knot indifferent. Lion's foot unearthing all the things I've seen but never truly understood. Rotten wood from oceans that were never green crumbles beneath the canopy, secretly. (let's pretend he never touched the sugar)

Tonight, under rose, you won't find another wheel to roll. When autumn winds appear, we wear these fears on our right, it just wants to be surreal 'cause. All dressed in diamond image jeans, mercury's found a new field. We miserable in love, a chance we walk, and ride on in, into the streets of the city, but
Watching people disappear without reaching out for years and years,
you're left, by Yourself on the Wheel.

Compositor: Andrew Vanwyngarden/ben Goldwasser

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