|
I'm pullin' the pavement from under my nails |
|
I brush past a garden, dependent on whales |
|
The slopin' companion, I cast down the ash |
|
Yanked on my tunic and dangled my stash |
|
Zipping through the forest with the curdling fleas |
|
To grow with them spindles, the mutant I seize |
|
I capture the dread beast who falls to his knees |
|
And cries to his cohorts, asleep in the trees |
|
Smegma, Dogmatagram, fish market stew |
|
Police in the corner, gunnin' for you |
|
Apple toast, bed heated, fur blanket rat |
|
Laugh when they shoot you, say |
|
Please don't do that |
|
Control for smiler's can't be bought |
|
The solar garlic starts to rot |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Control for smiler's can't be bought |
|
The solar garlic starts to rot |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Was it for this my life I sought? |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
Maybe so and maybe not |
|
... |
