[Verse 1]
Shit, John, I feel like I can’t sleep as well as I-I used to
And you know I never sleep that good
I keep having this dream
I’m working at this paint factory down on Port
And it’s hard work
We're stirring the paint with our arms and, for some reason, it's all white paint
All eggshell and alabaster
Tons and tons of every shade of white you can imagine
[Verse 2]
The bosses, they're all white folk of course
Are always telling us to reach further into it
And some people are up to their shoulders already, you know
Anyway, one night as we are hanging out with one of the managers, the friendly guy
Drinking a couple of beers, watching some shooting stars out the window
He offers to buy every one another drink
He's trying really hard to be nice
Well, we weren’t going to stop him so he stepped out and I went to the bathroom
But then, there was this huge banging sound
And I go running to the guys, because I feel like something isn't right
And then I see this cricket knocking over huge tanks of white paint, just lakes
And the manager comes wading through this lake of ivory paint and he's screaming
And my neck and shoulders and hair are covered in this stuff, so I’m climbing the staircase
And he points at me, and he sees me
And he points at me and he yells, “What did you do?”
[Verse 3]
You know no one was gonna believe me about the cricket
But I tried to tell them that I didn’t do it
But you know it, the managers
They all came down and the guys I was working with, they were all suddenly gone
And I swore to God that I didn’t knock the paint over
At this point, all the heavy, liquid white, became like cobwebs
Like soft ash, and cracked bone
Then they all, they all say that they knew that I did it, because the cricket told them
The fucking cricket
And I say, “Who are you going believe, are you gonna believe a cricket over me?”
“I knew a few good crickets back in West Virginia,” one boss says
And then, the manager who’s always trying to be nice, he comes out
He looks to me, he says, look, I'm not trying to say that you are lying, but the others
I think I worked out a deal with the guys
Something that could work for everybody
You see, we have this, this red paint that we've been meaning to work with
[Verse 4]
The last thing I see in this dream is always the same
It's a sea of red, an angry, vulnerable, hurt, vengeful red
Like a biblical plague of locusts
Like blood
Like power gone rogue
Shit, John, I feel like I can’t sleep as well as I-I used to
And you know I never sleep that good
I keep having this dream
I’m working at this paint factory down on Port
And it’s hard work
We're stirring the paint with our arms and, for some reason, it's all white paint
All eggshell and alabaster
Tons and tons of every shade of white you can imagine
[Verse 2]
The bosses, they're all white folk of course
Are always telling us to reach further into it
And some people are up to their shoulders already, you know
Anyway, one night as we are hanging out with one of the managers, the friendly guy
Drinking a couple of beers, watching some shooting stars out the window
He offers to buy every one another drink
He's trying really hard to be nice
Well, we weren’t going to stop him so he stepped out and I went to the bathroom
But then, there was this huge banging sound
And I go running to the guys, because I feel like something isn't right
And then I see this cricket knocking over huge tanks of white paint, just lakes
And the manager comes wading through this lake of ivory paint and he's screaming
And my neck and shoulders and hair are covered in this stuff, so I’m climbing the staircase
And he points at me, and he sees me
And he points at me and he yells, “What did you do?”
[Verse 3]
You know no one was gonna believe me about the cricket
But I tried to tell them that I didn’t do it
But you know it, the managers
They all came down and the guys I was working with, they were all suddenly gone
And I swore to God that I didn’t knock the paint over
At this point, all the heavy, liquid white, became like cobwebs
Like soft ash, and cracked bone
Then they all, they all say that they knew that I did it, because the cricket told them
The fucking cricket
And I say, “Who are you going believe, are you gonna believe a cricket over me?”
“I knew a few good crickets back in West Virginia,” one boss says
And then, the manager who’s always trying to be nice, he comes out
He looks to me, he says, look, I'm not trying to say that you are lying, but the others
I think I worked out a deal with the guys
Something that could work for everybody
You see, we have this, this red paint that we've been meaning to work with
[Verse 4]
The last thing I see in this dream is always the same
It's a sea of red, an angry, vulnerable, hurt, vengeful red
Like a biblical plague of locusts
Like blood
Like power gone rogue
( Sabertooth Swing )
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