Drums On The Wheel - Aesop Rock

Do you read me?

Do you read me?

Do I need to reach through the TV?

Do I need to reach through the Ouija?

Houston I may have gone too Houdini

I’m too uneasy, I’m out of phace

And I’m orange tang and I’m powdered eggs

And my radio has been down for days

I just stand around and sound out the phrase

It go «do you read me?»

Shook up shoe to beanie

I’ll look for the mall graffiti

Deep end of some hellhole

Come de-tech this tempo

I been feeding back in these headphones

Beating back a profound fear

Farewell to my breadcrumbs

Is anybody even out there?

I’m like out there in that true 3D

That new ether, that «do you read me?»

You don’t read me, I’m barely a thing

Staring off, I’m too scared to blink

I might shrink some and I shrink more

Shrink past this pink dwarf

No sign of my polestar

But oh, up here it don’t mean north

Deep space and no G-force

And more tumble out to some death bells

Some bleep bleep robot voice

Some red-light, some send help

Street meet some E.T.

to come

Deep fry and all freak grease and re-hone

Reach out, reap what he sow

Jesus, do you read me?

We don’t

And I play drums on the wheel

Whether feeling out of touch

Or outgunned in the field

Drums on the wheel

Bomb sites and blackouts

And fog lights and gas clouds

Jockey through vacuums

None of our flaps down, it’s shocking

Shot off just one small part of some squadron

That ain’t once chosen to abort shit

Now we’ve honed in on our problem

Non-stop until he stop and see

What kind of quadrant he got lost in

Do you read me, that option

When y’alls options are exhausted

I been dropped off in this mosh pit

Instead of locked into one orbit

Knock knock, fall back

Or this cockpit is my coffin

Boss levels I’m doomed to repeat

New dance called «do you read me?»

It evolved as if beyond the yonder mantra

What’s none ping in my transponder

What’s what the copy y’all plan to conjure

Been handed back to y’all unresponsive

Ten-hut now I’m in sync

Phone home but just ring and ring

Asteroids that leave marks

And black holes that eat stars

Green cheese and GPS

Be decked with detours

Fuel gauge around E street

And my beacons are all blinked out

I might slink up in that junk heap

You can’t read in or pin down

And I play drums on the wheel

Whether feeling out of touch

Or outgunned in the field

Drums on the wheel

And I play drums on the wheel

Whether feeling out of touch

Or outgunned in the field

Drums on the wheel