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Jonas Kyle Meets The Perfect Trip

by Jonas Kyle

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1.
Intro 01:26
2.
Everybody knows no one like poets But rappers keep at it Like biter tigers In spite of most likely getting shot Poets don’t need to make rhymes Don’t need to keep time Either or neither Makes no difference For delivery Poets don’t need to sell their mind And guess what They don’t need to buy nothing either right? Let me ask you something What? All this fucking stuff It’s not liminal It’s subliminal Get crazy on the street Make your body tweet Take opportunity Live with impunity Freshen up Be sweet Gallop with the horse Reach into ravines Run with the wind For the true obscene I’m not saying life is endless Just get it on again You can’t get nirvana Downstairs at the bodega You can’t grow in a strangled town So loosen up the handles Bring out the bengals What I mean is U be U Like in W
3.
Billy 02:44
Yes I have sung young And handled blood toned tongs And driven death into song And driven song into breath Brandished the gun Shooting the lung On the face The stomach Or the heart Have done everyone Much more than once No kidding hon No joking son Flooding mountain Come to the valley flood You brung water and blood Undertows of mud Undertones of swallowed love Like I swung young Like I sung young My mother myth To magic sprung From zeppelin sponge Her red hook Cut out My hungry tongue Tumbling froth Lunge mountain Lunge mountain down In banks Out of banks Wrung the last I could wring From my heart trust Done the most lust I could To make the sounds Sound sung
4.
Driving down the highway At the break of day I spot 3 figures Moving a foot In a field of stray It was still the dark side of dawn So hard to tell Something funny about them They didn’t seem okay I stop the truck Get my gun off the rack Put my heels on that hard paved road And shout hey Well just then The rising sun Cracks the eastern ridge And floods the plain The 3 freeze a sec In the instant light Focusing straight my way Like a camera click My ocular nerves pick up these guys Are me Younger versions no doubt But identical And exactly Yours truly Me Me Me Me Me Me Whatcha looking at old man they laugh And launch into a run Toward me and my truck At the waning moment I jump back in And hightail it off Feeling dumb I didn’t shoot the fucks It’s a clone encrusted Freak infested Clown show on earth All you can do Is live by your you Stay 30 grit Don’t get yourself bit And keep on sifting The dirt I get back home To my house on the hill Fuzzy and feeling used My wife Ann asks Where you been all night? Fucking girls Fucking boys You satisfied? Seriously Bill Have you been Back at that cave Stritching around for old bones To keep yourself young? Yes I was Didn’t last week You cut yourself bad there And drop blood in the dust? I admitted I did Well that wasn’t good I told you that 100 times A call comes in on her cell Ann answered As I took a swell of beer She gets off and says That was Joan There’s been a kill At Funnel Creek Where it goes into the river I think it’s the Browns You want to go check? Yeah let’s go I said It’s a clone encrusted Freak infested Shit show of a world All you can do is Live your best you Stay thirty grit Don’t get yourself bit And keep on sifting The dirt We get there And sure enough There’s been a slaughter The Brown parents dead And their 2 daughters Bad shit Don’t want to get into it Except some people present claim They saw me coming and going To and from the Browns In broad daylight Along the road You did this Bill No it wasn’t me Yes it was They put me under arrest And now I’m in jail without bail My clones did this to me My wife comes and visits me Once a month Says with binoculars Good ones On the far side of the canyon She scopes the cave And sees 1’s, 2’s and 3’s Of me Slipping out Bivouacking down rocks Perfectly free Will they all be criminals? Maybe Maybe some will get a PHD Not mutually exclusive 1st, 2nd or 3rd degree It’s a clone encrusted Freak infested Shit show of a world All you can do is Live your best true Stay thirty grit (Spongebob) Don’t get yourself bit And keep on sifting The dirt
5.
Here’s the starting line On your mark Get set Go What the hell clowns You all jumped the gun Line up again You fuck up this time I’ll expel the bunch of you From the competition Don’t think I won’t I’m used to canceling At the drop of a pin Okay so you ready now On your mark Get set Go Jackamo does coke With Parker-Poo down In Chinatown Under the bridge At Mr. Fong’s Fed up rats Grounge for scraps In the alley Till the sun comes up You could use this sketch To roll out a flick Like high as kites And before everyone wakes up Let’s jack some Richard Prince From the gallery And flash his ass On social media How about a handsome ransom From the Prince Or maybe not But who knows these days What does and doesn’t play Either I get your goose Or you get desecrated Some other way Sad to say You’ve had your day Time to go away Not to change the subject too quick But in certain contexts Love wipes you clean Like walking in on a sex scene You didn’t mean to find Minds get dangerous Especially when deranged Poor Jackamo Poor Parker-Poo Jackamo drank A whole bunch of booze With his pap In the divest bar On Wall Street Since noon Parker-Poo Stands knee deep At the end of a thing With someone dear From here That cat in the bag Gets loose Given the right mix Of creativity With deviance Anything can happen No doubt Misery and mastery Stick it right Where it really hurts Sado-Masochism Basic Modernism 101 The buildings brighten Out the window What’s frightening What really scares me Is my shadow I forgot I had 1 And now it really freaks me out I woke up this morning And I knew I was dead Calm down okay You still have access to money right You don’t have to beg In front of McDonald’s or something Not sure about that Helen grabbed my poor ass Off the street And made me her toy In Troy But the bitch ditched me At least I’m not wearing a mask In the shower There is that Bright and bushy tailed as ever Where's that rat Poet brats The biggest leaf Of my geranium Has gone yellow I’m going to nick it Off
6.
Alimony Palimony Abalone Pox of posies We lived like kings Now we’re stuck at home We got rings In our nosies Watch this big pharma I will karma-lize You guys till You cry your beans out Don’t think you’ll survive without me If I’m going out You’re coming with me I’m the one Who gets things done If I take a bad turn Burn me up Don’t forsake me Stash my ash in an urn Or rake me in the dirt Fallopian Cantaloupe Utopian Antelope Be cool Don’t lock the door To the bathroom Get the loan Disown your fam Go on the lam Start an Ashram Man you go out every night You’re like a socialite
7.
Everybody knows no one like poets But rappers keep at it Like biter tigers In spite of most likely getting shot Poets don’t need to make rhymes Don’t need to keep time Either or neither Makes no difference For delivery Poets don’t need to sell their mind And guess what They don’t need to buy nothing either right Let me ask you something What All this fucking stuff It’s not liminal It’s subliminal Get crazy on the street Make your body tweet Take opportunity Live with impunity Freshen up goddamn it Be sweet Gallop with the horse Reach into ravines Run with the wind For the true obscene And the true serene I’m not saying life is endless Just get it on again You can’t get nirvana Downstairs at the bodega You can’t grow in a strangled town So loosen up the handles Bring out the bengals What I mean is U be U Like in W
8.
Central Valley Sweet raisin Give me cauliflower Give me sex by the hour In Fresno Set me up in Chico With the freakos I got restless toe syndrome and covid I need to shoot my wad At the homeless camp Casino to bet crypto On a big guy MMA bout In Lodi If we win Me, my sis and my bros Get gonzo billions Looking at trillions Criticize I mean ostracize Me in Sacramento I’m scouting for water And an otter And my long lost Runaway daughter All you gay guys Lead such great lives As new age sages In San Francisco I guess you do do that Cause someone loves you On Sunset Strip Of the rainbow Watch out though For opioids and poppers And androids And especially keep an eye on Bakersfield The lizoid cops there Eat boys and girls For serial killer breakfast Wild mountain fires rage Smell the burning sage Turn the page in the smoke All the leaves are brown And the sky is gray Nothing to see here Hey Alcatraz I mean San Quentin When’s the next Scheduled execution But I’m not stupid Seems like Some fucked up shit Maybe I do need to Get electrocuted I mean with no blame Entire lives Go up in flames Gonna take a napa A shot of Grappa And sip some Grigio Before my hair Gets singed off Like Smokey the Bear On the ridge-eo (Kurt Schittwas) On the ridge-eo Smoking on the ridge-eo (I've got a mango) (Box it up and send it away) Truckers to Bakersfield And truckers to the east coast But I’m not done yet California dreamin’ You did too much Damage to my thought Process to let you off The hook like that Fuck that Fuck that California Amazin’ raisin Gag on your swag Gag on your oak aged Vanilla notes Smooth and nice In wine and liquor Gag on your life Or just take it chill Your private eyes Know precisely Who’s doing who And what loads the dice Lemme see your ID Who’s Bugatti? Who’s Vice? Or I don’t know Is there any there there Left there? Whole thing Just Grand Theft Auto Are you all fucking like Plato? ID Fuck that ID or starve ID or starve ID or starve Identification ID Identification Or you will starve to death I will never see the end of this They will They will Control everybody And there's nothing I can do about it I must sit here and weep I must weep Cause it's identification or starve Cause it's identification or starve Identification Identification ID ID ID ID ID or starve You and me ID So I got down on my knees And I began to pray To say what the fuck is this? This state is in a State of dysfunction On a scale of 39.5 billion Guess what? Like that It don’t take much To light the match Facade and mirage Love at 1st lay Look I know the game I’ve gone up canyon roads Overgrown with flora With houses perched on stilts I’ve viewed magnificent vistas Upon the Pacific From private abodes I know what counts On the west coast is Fidelity in sight and sound Relationships No way In San Jose Faithful in trust? You must be kidding me ID or starve ID or starve ID or starve ID ID ID ID ID ID ID ID ID I see I see it I know I know I can't believe it I will never believe it I can't believe it I will never believe it I will not believe ID You must be kidding me (I need to see ID) Alright so Just play on SM replay Your best day Take your language lips And ripped off looks And crimp the opposition On your way To The Perfect Trip The Perfect Trip Take your way On your way to The Perfect Trip Doesn’t matter If everyone else thinks you’re jerks Which I think is fine At least we like what you write Even though none of you read Such a prime apothegm is Don’t read what you write Such a Golden State Most valuable gem That’s all right Don’t read anyone Especially not Didion She’s just a spy In the house of love Poor old Cali You were once fruit of the loom Now you’re just Another failed dream Hate to end it this way So I won’t To be continued...

about

Recorded at Spoonbill & Sugartown Books
Brooklyn, NY

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released July 23, 2023

Jonas Kyle - Vocals
The Ace of Chase - Guitar, Vocals
Caleb Mars - Mandolin, Vocals

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Jestamang

A musical collective originating from the Jesta metropolis who've been training to open up the psychedelic renaissance through alter egos which weave and build up Jestamang on the daily.

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