Frontier Ruckus - Open It Up lyrics

Hard-hopin' I can open It up Heartbroken And soft-spoken Ain't we all grown up now? Mary-Lynn, when you call to me There is little I can do And you want to bring it all to me Well, you know, I'd want you to But seeing as there is no place Seeing as there is no trace I do not know if I can taste it Anymore Now I rub each tear duct with my hands When someone's foreign bathtub product brands Stung my heart and plucked my glands Because it understands the smell You wore That's when I follow my dad down To the video rental store Mentally explore The glorious Phantasmagoria To some sunny summer family reunion in a soccer practice park Through a dark grainy camcorder With '1994' in white numbers on the border of the lower right corner where you Were quite pixelated by the men in the tans Beside the subtly outdated minivans In turquoise polos as the boys blow 'O's Through the dirty mustaches they grew Smoking Merit cigarettes you inherit from Papou Pulled from soft packs in an '89 Buick Park Avenue In slacks on the pickup lane of the Catholic K thru 8 his great grandson goes to There's a dead world locked in a Nintendo 64 In some divorced friend's mom's apartment bedroom drawer And a chandelier of chrome in her white brick apartment home's Shared stairwell where the farewells blew And sag with the bags Of sidewalk salt You cannot disown Your middle-school cologne And the tedium Is the medium that connects All that is holy I was the goalie Who let in an infinitude of Worlds That I can't possibly disown The snow Ossified to bone And got stained so black By the track of the sliding doors Of the modern cell phone stores Chaldeans smoking sweetly As the deeply dim night pours For you There's a meteorologist On the local news Whose hand I got to grip On a fifth grade field trip He's no long young-dad hip For he's now as old as all of us Would ever want to be And the weather, we foresee Will be better endlessly Once Nana's Backyard swallows us The lawns aren't cut too short And they abut the tennis court And our ages are not cages That we cannot re-a**ort Oh, the obsolescence Of your adolescence Heavy as a copy machine Gargantuan, elephantine In an old friend's dad's 90s home office With off-white purring processors And PC blurs on monitors They can't display the past so they Just mark their time and darken I'm just Hard-hopin' I can open It up