Lyrics Garfield - Hail Mary Mallon

Garfield

Diamond in the back
Gun-proof top
Ironside metal mouth
Kung-fu chop
One-way ticket
To a three-dog night
When there’s six million ways
To make these dogs bite
Carolina blue ruby
Sequence tar heel
Carrots, try the soup
Green Jesus car wheel
Tattoo of a scar
Half a sleeveless arm shield
Make yer girl wanna put 'em
On the glass like Garfield
Staring contest Go!
You win, I was never good at that
Always shook his head of any hooks attached
Spit that made us high for days
Drag a trail of slime and waste
Catch you outside quickie mart, the mini-mall, or time and space
I am too looped in systematic moving patterns
Meticulously plotted with miniature pewter dragons
The dark heart news penny any necromancy
On to plan B, panic and channel the nothin' Bambi
Key in the door when there’s nobody home
Oven is on and there’s mail in the box
Rockin the bus on a rotary phone
Something awry in the way of the walk
Landed in the smokey collat on the way to sturgess
Meltin' down the silver from chains and then makin' stirrups
Turn upon the news in a segment on wasted purpose
When it’s death before dishonor
Words before trade insurance
Pygmy dart horse and poison place where the circle is
Wolf pack legions and heathens that breathe the virgin skins
Row bombers for Dora complete with permanent
Purple heart fastened to leaf of Adidas turtle tips
Oh wooden tangles
Wet like a hell-hole
So sick spiders tattoo it on the elbows
Death star rebuilt
Cozy inside the milk bar
Jukebox (???)ing
For the tune to break the bell jar
Zero miss lifting
Split-screen, left side’s friend died
Right side, a witch’s crypt crypting (Gross)
I’m cranky like nobody understands me
White tee, dagger in the back, nothing fancy
Mayhem of mosaic Passaic river of guppy grief
Cause and effect to the timid limb of your hugging tree
Cut in a three-way divided amongst a rugby team
Who can either take or leave em
Or feed em game like it’s Chuck E. Cheese
Really rotten doctor shocks of the all stars
Newspaper letters that’ll end in his hallmarks
Stuck in traffic stoned
Stopped at the Walmart
While I beast
And then maul cops like Paul Blart
While I feast
Install bombs in doll parts
Pawn shops, stalwarts
(???), broad swords
(???) clocks, long darts
Shockin' on a sock drawer
Porn drawn arms
Jarred prawn hearts
I thrilled, killed, coked, and sold with raw matter
Milled, spilled guts, and drummed with Thor’s hammer
Document the war of the department store’s Santas
From the POD of cameras hid in the dog’s antlers