Cosmonaut Rock Lyrics by Deacon Burns

Kounterclockwise Tick Tock and you don’t stop
Making the spot hot with this hip hop
B-boys pop lock
B-boys pop lock
Cosmonaut Rock
Cosmonaut Rock

I’m a lying, egotistical, conniving, hypocritical, bigot!
So when I called you a bitch, that’s why I did it.
Lyrics are poisonous when I spit.
It can melt your face from the concentrated acid.
Can you hear it?
That’s the sound of scorned souls and slaughtered slaves beheaded and
betrayed the American way
So don’t get all Sarah McLaughlin dog commercial face on me,
fucka time to pay.
I’ll be a devil until I’m an angel
Elevate like Criss Angel
Break your ankle like Kurt Angle
And yell out Mindfreak,
While innocent pedestrians run for protection from these Cleveland streets.
Throwing temper tantrum fits when I spit.
I’m all over the place like broken glass and bird shit.
I am your tourniquet, It’s the Deacon from the pulpit,
Screaming fuck the rich,
Time to take their shit.

Kounterclockwise Tick Tock and you don’t stop
Making the spot hot with this hip hop
B-boys pop lock
B-boys pop lock
Cosmonaut Rock
Cosmonaut Rock

I’m an alcoholic drug incarnate
Damned by the public, hated, cursed, and wanted.
Wheelchair crippled, wishful, sinful, twisted,
Dead or alive? I want what’s mine, so fuck it!
Contaminated by the music
A melancholic mechanic with a mental mechanical yearning of me
Serving this radio-centric cybernetic planet with an atomic bomb,
This is a warning from a sideshow carnival freak,
With a contorted spine, gimp legs, my muscles got atrophied,
My wheelchair needs batteries,
Life is a bitch indeed.
Thank God for liquor, pills, and weed.
Now kneel before your conqueror
Feel the blood and thunder
The game has made me bitter,
So fucker you got to suffer.
I’ll plunder your little paper.
Middle finger to haters.
I’m a hunter and a predator
Out to kill the oppressor.

Kounterclockwise Tick Tock and you don’t stop
Making the spot hot with this hip hop
B-boys pop lock
B-boys pop lock
Cosmonaut Rock
Cosmonaut Rock

I’m not contrived or controlled but my mind is contorted
I refuse to be a puppet just to please the fucking public.
Now it’s time to serve the servants
Self-appointed judges judge it,
But they all sound really stupid.
Cause they all sound really stupid cause
They still don’t fucking get it.
They just want a bunch of saturated mimics with a gimmick,
Tattooed gold trinkets with some dumbed down lyrics.
Then they put you in a box with a bow, neat package.
Then they ram you down the throat of the people, make them eat it.
Cause it’s played on the radio thirty times a second.
It’s a subliminal message, now you swear that you love it.
Another hit record #1 with a bullet,
Grammy nominated then it’s thrown in the garbage.
It’s a never ending cycle and I’ll never understand it.
These labels are under handed and they’re quick to take advantage
Leaving you lost and stranded,
Broken down and damaged,
Confused and abandoned.

Kounterclockwise Tick Tock and you don’t stop
Making the spot hot with this hip hop
B-boys pop lock
B-boys pop lock
Cosmonaut Rock
Cosmonaut Rock

Kounterclockwise Tick Tock and you don’t stop
Making the spot hot with this hip hop
B-boys pop lock
B-boys pop lock
Cosmonaut Rock
Cosmonaut Rock