| Every couple summers, me and a couple hunters
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| Like to row in from the isle of astonishing motherfuckers
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| Machines cleaner than three marines mothers rooms
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| Came in peace but leaving with keys to your VW
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| Needle-nosed pliers and a paragon of level design
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| These are the weapons of bedeviling times
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| If the medicine chest temper like a towny come untethered
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| To a busker with a twenty minute «Downeaster Alexa» cover
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| I didn’t start the fire but I plan to
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| Dance around it naked with pagans, leggings, and pan-flutes
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| Shampoo, hairspray, hustler friends
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| Eat shit, die like it’s just for men
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| Most illinest, toast the mutineer of the year
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| I’m a bum, my motherfucking beard has a beard
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| Hot stepper, leper with measurements all wrong
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| I’m a beast, my motherfucking dog got a dog
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| I’m sorry, deeper in the polygons
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| Radical brats compare teeth on the promenade
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| Mans worst friend, tragedy prone
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| Skirting a neverending exodus from Madame Tussauds
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| He’s an immediate threat, speaking nefarious tongues
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| Reeking of variant faith, drinking that heresy punch
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| I play defender at the center for the never enough
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| You called it losing my way, I called it leveling up
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| Up up ante, Danny riding through the west wing
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| Big wheel bloody, fuzzy images of dead twins
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| Cuff links, button-up, sloppy coat, no hat
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| Satan’s mother, twisted sister, brothers Grimm and ghost dad
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| Number six throwback, Mickey Mantle Upper Deck
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| Jackknife pegasus to basic bitches rubberneck
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| Pinky swear, bible belt, o-ring on his spider bite
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| Flat rate to the city if you iffy gypsies ride or die
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| Salt in his wounds (check) Rice in his stomach (check)
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| Price on his head (check) Lice in his mullet (check)
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| Head on a stake, feet gracing the ottoman
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| Sweaty bandanna, come meet the amazing Jonathan
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| Hi Jonathan, meet the amazing Hollow Man
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| Turn a snow globe into a lava lamp
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| Backyard, black marshmallows on his olive branch
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| Dressed up like an evil villain dressed up like a soccer dad
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| Mallon, we don’t plan it
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| Skull tats, banshee bunk in a bone hammock
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| Drunk from its own damage, sell 'cuz it’s well made
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| Ducks that are both sitting and standing at Hells gate
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| Girl, you smell great |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Jonathan , by - Hail Mary Mallon. Song from the album Bestiary, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп