Boomerang
The Uncluded (Aesop Rock & Kimya Dawson) Lyrics
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Entirely divided from his hub
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
When building coverage out of rubber tires
Or guns out of thumbs,
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Mothership transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Um, It's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Having settled down, several thousand miles from his blood
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Trying to tunnel 'till he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Or halo deep in water,
Glub glub, wondering if running
Is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
I'm four balled tyred in the mud
When it's diner food or bust
Spiralling a sign of whats to come
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
I'm not, but homies that appreciate the crisis
And treat 'em like they seen em with a second set of eyelids
OK, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Long before I volunteered as unabashed, unaware
How? All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
When the mileage in the middle, turn a siren to a hush
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the wet stone
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
The lyrics of "Boomerang" by The Uncluded (Aesop Rock & Kimya Dawson) are somewhat cryptic and difficult to interpret. The imagery and metaphors are somewhat surreal and abstract, leaving a lot of room for interpretation. However, the overall theme of the song seems to be one of displacement and searching for a sense of belonging.
The opening lines of the song describe someone who is "all dressed up, like a spider in a cup," suggesting someone who is uncomfortable and confined. This person is "entirely divided from his hub," or cut off from his roots and community. The following lines describe this person trying to find a sense of identity and purpose by building bridges and negotiating peace talks. However, there is a sense of disconnection and confusion, as indicated by the lines "Mothership transmitting intel on the meatloaf // Um, It's getting cold, sugar water getting warm."
The chorus of the song - "Boom-er-oomerang" - seems to suggest a cyclical pattern of behavior, perhaps indicating that the person is stuck in a loop of trying to find their place but always coming back to the same point of confusion and displacement. The second verse continues this theme, with the singer describing their search for meaning and sense of self. The imagery of being "four balled tyred in the mud" suggests being stuck and unable to move forward. However, there is also a sense of camaraderie with others who have experienced similar struggles, as indicated by the lines "homies that appreciate the crisis // And treat 'em like they seen em with a second set of eyelids."
Overall, the lyrics of "Boomerang" suggest someone who is searching for a sense of belonging and identity but is struggling to find their way. There is a sense of displacement and discomfort, but also a sense of camaraderie and connection with others who have experienced similar struggles.
Line by Line Meaning
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Feeling trapped and vulnerable, all dressed up
Entirely divided from his hub
Disconnected from his center, feeling lost
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
Dealing with pain inflicted by others
When building coverage out of rubber tires
Making do with limited resources
Or guns out of thumbs,
Creating weapons out of nothing
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Tackling big challenges
Mothership transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Getting information from unlikely sources
Um, It's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
Things are changing and it's unsettling
Cruising to a future summer, suiting up for civil war
Preparing for a conflict ahead
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Still feeling trapped and vulnerable
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Keeping secret hopes and dreams close
Having settled down, several thousand miles from his blood
Settling far away from family
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Taking risks despite the odds
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Breaking through barriers
Trying to tunnel 'till he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Working hard for success
Or halo deep in water,
Facing overwhelming challenges
Glub glub, wondering if running
Drowning and questioning his choices
Is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
Wondering how his actions are perceived
I'm four balled tyred in the mud
Stuck and struggling
When it's diner food or bust
Making do with what's available
Spiralling a sign of whats to come
Feeling like things are out of control
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
Putting on a brave face despite doubts
Homies that appreciate the crisis
Support from friends during tough times
And treat 'em like they seen em with a second set of eyelids
Understanding each other's struggles
OK, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Acknowledging mistakes and missteps
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
Feeling isolated and alone
When the mileage in the middle, turn a siren to a hush
Experiencing unexpected changes
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Going through a rollercoaster of emotions
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the wet stone
Growing up in a place that shapes you
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
Developing survival skills
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Leaving with the intention of returning
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
Getting caught up in unexpected challenges
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Life has a way of coming full circle
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
What goes around, comes around
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Life is unpredictable
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Expect the unexpected
Lyrics © OBO APRA/AMCOS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@pisssommelier768
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Entirely divided from his hub
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
When building coverage out of rubber tires
Or guns out of thumbs,
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Mothership transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Um, It's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
Cruising to a future summer, suiting up for civil war
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Having settled down, several thousand miles from his blood
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Trying to tunnel 'till he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Or halo deep in water,
Glub glub, wondering if running
Is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
I'm four balled tyred in the mud
When it's diner food or bust
Spiralling a sign of whats to come
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
I'm not, but homies that appreciate the crisis
And treat 'em like they seen em with a second set of eyelids
OK, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Long before I volunteered as unabashed, unaware
How? All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
When the mileage in the middle, turn a siren to a hush
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the wet stone
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
@michealpangowish9292
I spun and I stood, and I look back at the good,
And I remembered seeing ghosts, and I remembered being tiny.
I remembered always hiding with only flashlights lighting.
Had to pee when you found the best spot. Bad timing.
Climbing a dogwood. Barking, in bloom.
Sting singing on the ceiling of a blue bedroom.
Like a Harlem-line summertime hootenanny barbecue:
Screaming "I'm fine!", but I think they all knew.
Cause you can't hide your childhood flying dreams
Through your fishbowl-wall transparencies
And the clock tick-tocked. It was time to leave.
I walked away from everyone and everything,
And I thought when I left, that I couldn't come back.
With that old household never home again.
And then, when I ran toward the one-man-band,
I began abandoning all my friends.
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Entirely divided from his hub
Addressing injuries commissioned by the Suffolk county brier
When building coverage out of rubber tyres
Or guns out of thumbs...
Negotiated inter-stellar peace talks
Mothership transmitting intel on the meatloaf
Ummm... It's getting cold, sugar water getting warm
Cruising to a future summer, suiting up for civil war
How? All dressed up like a spider in a cup
Hiding tiny butterflies inside his gut
Having settled down, several thousand miles from his blood
To climb and tirelessly high-dive into a sponge
Space invaders through a paper Rita Hayworth
Trying to tunnel 'till he ankle deep in pay-dirt
Or halo deep in water...
Glub glub... wondering if running
Is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
Boom-er-oomerang, Boom-er-oomerang
I went east with a hole to fill in my chest.
I went west with it filled: off to build a nest.
I'm impressed. I'm depressed. I'm the best. I'm a mess.
With a pretty little baby girl upon my breast.
And next: progress, twist, turn, digress.
Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy, busy, never rest.
I missed the rest as you might suspect,
And I tried to fly, but my wings are wet.
A kid in the woods, ducked down in the shrubs.
Out of hiding just in time to greet the sun,
So here I stand with my hand out cast aflame.
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm so lame.
I'm sorry that sometimes I'm a deadbeat friend.
The worry makes me scurry into my own head.
With my eyes on the rise, feet where it sets,
Sentimental obstacles; of course it's me not them.
All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
I'm four bald tires in the mud
When it's diner food or bust
Spiralling a sign of whats to come
While pretending I am fine with what I've done
I'm not, but homies that appreciate the crisis
And treat 'em like they seen em with a second set of eyelids
Ok, that wasn't fair, admittedly I wasn't there
Long before I volunteered as unabashed, unaware
How? All dressed up, like a spider in a cup
Who never knew a silence so abrupt
When the mileage in the middle, turn a siren to a hush
First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch
Long Island was the hatchery, NYC the wetstone
Sharpening the carving knives, foraging for breadcrumbs
I headed west, planned to boomerang back
Sidetracked by a trans-continental cage match
@TheDoosky
this is just one of those songs that you wanna listen to over and over again wanting it to never end, or am i wrong?
@jesserodriguez506
Nope.You're right.
@4some2joe0
absolutely not, I'm one that repeats it till engraved lyrics linger in my brain and join in loudly
@Gary-tb3tw
TheDoosky yes
@danielaragon5302
X42
@Eddysassin
Nailed it
@bryce2631
I remember when this album came out. "First you hate it, then you love it, then you try it as a crutch" hit home so hard it left a smoking hole in my chest.
@GoldFishEatSouls
"I'm sorry that sometimes I'm a deadbeat friend.
The worry makes me scurry into my own head."
I feel this line in my soul...
@sardonic151
I've been listening to this song for years and I just understood it is about growing old and leaving your friends and then knowing you can return to them.
@nikolastamenkovic755
Whole album is pure greatness.
"wondering if running is considered by the people to be cowardly or cunning"