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Busdriver - Jhelli Beam Scoliosis Jones

Contributors

  • ISRC:USEP40907004
  • Recorded:2009 The Echo Chamber
  •  ©2009 Anti Inc.
  • Vocals:Busdriver

Lyrics

Hi my name’s Scoliosis Jones
I’ve got comb over coif and a smoker’s cough
I’m into motocross and am a Planet Z3 colonist
And a self-taught anestigioloigist
I’ve got a corn ethanol powered copter pack
For slow nights I’m in bold type in almanacs
My bandmates act like tasteful Swedes
With tweezed brows they seed clouds with dreidels and beads
So I gnaw on the nozzles for syrupy opiates
When the political climate is clearly Soviet
But my crackpot persona’s an eerie cozy fit
When I cackle at the throws of the hedge maze
I used to stab niggers with quarter with quarter notes
And treat royalty statements like horoscopes
But my wonderland’s been deforested and poached
And my groin gets bombarded with x-rays

I’m Scoliosis Jones
“We all laugh at your expense”, fuck you then
Full of broken bones
“Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense”

In the headliner’s Buck Rodgers seating wing
There’s always blood on the toddler’s teething ring
He needs legitimized conceit,
Cocaine nasal spray, splayed cable bays to liquefy the heath
His personal assistants wear go-go boots and every vocal booth
Most have a glory hole
He’s fellated by a roster of vapid poodles and eats apple strudels
Wearing a portly stole
A crass pipsqueak all slathered in bronzer
Picking out the pig’s feet in the fattening curd cobbler
Flossing and stuff because he thinks we care
He signed a ten album deal with a pinky swear
Popular opinion’s burgeoning gulf leans
To it’s concerning his golf swing
My cardigan reeks in partisan pink
Because I’m Barton Fink in the Martian sphinx

I’m Scoliosis Jones
“We all laugh at your expense”, fuck you then
Full of broken bones
“Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense”

Pole vaulting over the exalted sultan of urban music
Because he’s Nova Scotian
I am the script clinic for the post-millennial slacker biopic
Your pitch is impish full of skullduggery and slice of life, dull cutlery
Twirl and flail around the motor fire and foreign policy deodorizer
I am the script clinic for the post-millennial slacker biopic