escape to witch mountain, 1975. Lyrics

No one can jump that high Malone

You stood on something

A lot of bases, on who's basis

With the fake lips, She's your main bitch

I catch faces, not cases

You catch fades and wear your paychecks

What's the point of having talent

If you're too sad to breathe

I'm sitting in a prison of con-solidarity

People want some feeling from me

But my feeling is a disease

I'd rather analyze your brains

And match your personalities

I'm the product of nothing

Cause I raised myself

No one questions what I've been through

But, I'm living through Hell

Feeling sympathy, aching for the Devil himself

I too, was once different than everyone else

A lot of bases, on who's basis

With the fake lips, She's your main bitch

I catch faces, not cases

You catch fades and wear your paychecks

I'm Misery, nice to meet you with some synergy

What's the tone in your delivery

I implode before your trickery

They can't reach me on my phone

Cause I'm astral projecting

In a planet I don't know of but, familiar settings

Can't articulate my thoughts

Since we don't think the same

I'm not someone you can control to manipulate

I've got a reminiscent presence

Honed in the conversation

I'm a nightmare but with reverence

And observing situations

A slim baby, not shady

I'm not famous

I'm nameless

Not complacent

Just in spaces

Within places

On Uranus