Crop Circles lyrics

The sun rises and sets on time every day of the year,
But sporadically the circles appear
Baffling all through the history of no-man
Since fuckin with the mystery of Stone Hinge
Aliens, cults, witches with lawnmowers, mindblowers
Nobody knows what for sure
But he knows when I walk in the vicinity
But I can read ‘em and I believe that I need ‘em
I’m runnin’ through a wheat field chasin’ a ghost that loves circles
Use it for portals and time holes, and dance backwards and chant with the cult people
At the crop circle, I come to know people
Under moon rays, lightin’ up my new ways
The new lays, they mow ‘em down in two days
A hundred days from now, we’ll pay for that mishap
With another hurricane bitch slap

[CHORUS]
The crop circles are talking to me…(Circle somethin’, circle somethin’)
The crop circles are talking to me…(Circle somethin’, circle somethin’)
Something slowly emerges for me…(Circle somethin’, circle somethin’)
The crop circles are talking to me…(Circle somethin’, circle somethin’)

This ball of mud that we live on is alive
If you try to wipe it’s mouth it’s gonna wipe us out
I lay in a field alone in the middle of the night
Try to get my life right, pray for bright light
Set flames to the wheat rows during an eclipse
And the spirits will come out and dance, catch you a glimpse
They’re like artists connecting the stars in rare fashion,
Intricately placed with secrets of white magic
I’m runnin’ through the moon lit fields,
Followin’ a little orb light hopin’ it might reveal any secret
It’s dancin’ and I can’t catch up, and I almost ran headfirst into a truck
No compass’ll work and I’m lookin’ for answers
While the sands of my hourglass fall up backwards
Have I lost you? Cause I’ve lost me too
But if your hiding in the crops I will come find you

[CHORUSx1]

Forty thousand years ago, the stoning of a young man
His story written in the crops near spoken
In England, the face of a dead woman shown etched out a wheat field, uniquely woven
Hieroglyphics, mathematical genius predicting the orbital patterns of Venus
And the grass behind your grandpa’s wood barn,
Complex designs dropped seconds before dawn
Dead birds, scattered throughout the patterns of art
No explanation left by the shadows of dark
Batteries drained of they power in seconds
I’m layin in the crop circle countin my blessins
It might hurt though, headaches and nausea will creep in
And your nose will bleed when ya sleep in
Don’t go near there, don’t dare – beware
Unless your like us, and don’t care

[CHORUSx2]