Will Wood - BlackBoxWarrior - Okultra

Well he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson Syndrome on the E.R. Floor
Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic
Well the way he spun his butterfly
Risked all six his phalanges
Roman candles at both ends of his synapses
And the method with which he recycled his humours
Trojan horse'd his blood-brain barrier
And raised the LD-50, yes, yes
And through flight-or-fight revelation shame
The black box warrior
He skipped this town and headed straight down history

Shields himself from reason in a kevlar baby-blue tuxedo
Quilted from the finest fibres, flesh and fiberglass and flowers
Ego a mosquito
Evil incarnate, good incognito
Pops placebos for libido
Screaming "bless the torpedoes"

For what? For what?
For what it's worth
If it was gonna kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what?
For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down

Well he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose
Around his lotus jugular when they came
Well they found him with a map to every victim of his love
And a tattoo of a blue jay on his face
And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry
A hymn out in hungarian harmonic
But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma, sang for auld lang syne
Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics

His ribcage was a hornet's nest
Palpitations set the beat
His vagus nerve a turk's head knot, an axel hitch, a carrick bend
He wondered if christ-consciousness would charge a cancellation fee
Auf wiedersehen, au revoir
He gripped his wits right by their ends

For what? For what?
For what it's worth
If it was gonna kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what?
For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down

Hello, welcome
Why don't you take a seat?
Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to
Now what's bothering you?
Well, why don't we start at the beginning?
Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?
Did you have xenon orchid sinews
Spilling down the outer center of your blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head?
And how about claustrophillic tendrils
Clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckled thumbs
Did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands
Your projector eyes casting sci-fis on your STR'd strands?
Tell me about your nerves to steal nerves of steel
From under Bacchus' bloody nose
Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you
Your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole
Did you die before your day?
Thursday traction, Tuesday Titration
My hope is to assess through my objective report
Of your subjective conjecture
Whether this proprietary blend of expertise
And seasoning works as well as this transorbital ice pick
Holistic ballistics, you got a better idea?
It's about the best we could come up with
What, do you think ideas spread because they're good?
No, they spread because people like them
So here we are once again
Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror
I guess it's just something people do

A bloody knife to split your infrastructure
Wine to rev your motor function
Coital machinations of the dead
Well you mainline your animus
Karate chop your abacus
And learn to be an animal instead
But I never did think you better than this
Your modus operandi causes nazi skoptysizm and suicide
Why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem
Not the things you do but something sick inside
Lithium and dialectics
Boy, you really is defective
Cbt don't seem effective for that cluster B, accept it
Offer up your innocence
Please ignore the side effects
You've lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you'll be fine

For what? For what?
For what it's worth
If it was gonna kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what?
For what it's worth
There's no more looking back
And why would you want to look back
I mean, it's no good looking back, so try to look forward now
For what? For what?
For what it's worth
If they were gonna get you boy, they would have by now
For what? For what?
For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down

Written by:
Will Wood

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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