| Sixes hang in the door
|
| What kind of shit to ignore
|
| I’ve cut the cloth
|
| (Ooo, hard line circle)
|
| How to know who to write
|
| How to know who can cull up all the questions
|
| (We know that I’m right, cease)
|
| To clean out a night
|
| I fell in love
|
| I heard about it
|
| I heard about it
|
| I heard about it
|
| No
|
| And so it’s not in your clasp
|
| What’s the function or the task
|
| Well, I’d stun and I’d stammer
|
| Help me reach the hammer
|
| (For then what will I ask)
|
| That’s a pair of them docks
|
| Mooring out two separate lochs
|
| Ain’t that some kind of quandary
|
| Take me into your palms
|
| What is left when unhungry
|
| I learned about it
|
| I learned about it
|
| I’ve learned about it
|
| No
|
| I’m still standing in
|
| Still standing in the need of the prayer
|
| The need of prayer
|
| No, I don’t know the path
|
| Or what kind of pith I’ve amassed
|
| Long lines of questions
|
| Lessons (lessons)
|
| Lessons, lessons
|
| What do you lose to concede?
|
| And yes it’s hard to believe
|
| When 'em sold from your sleeve
|
| Just come off of your kneel
|
| Please, please, please
|
| I can admit to conceal
|
| No, that’s not how that’s supposed to feel
|
| Oh, no
|
| (It's not for broader appeal)
|
| Fuck the fashion of it, dear
|
| I’ve laughed about it
|
| I’ve laughed about it
|
| I’ve laughed about it
|
| No |