| I work well when the air is heavy
|
| Everyday before the roosters ready
|
| Won’t see a break till the day gets done
|
| Till the stars cut cake and the moon get some
|
| And when it does then I’ll do what I can
|
| To offer it a place in the space at the end
|
| Lead water war and a portion of bread
|
| And a pocket full of stones it can toss at my head
|
| Leap awake shake off the chill and
|
| Won’t stop marching my arches are killing
|
| Spill a little more when the martyrs are trained
|
| Willing ready able, cable armed ready aim
|
| Stain glass pain killers copped
|
| Rain coat game then complain when it stops
|
| Vein dry I. V drain tiny drop
|
| I’m thinking I can save all the saints who forgot
|
| How to pick a weapon apart with your teeth
|
| In a dark alley blind when the targets retreat
|
| Park, repeat, Parkinson tick
|
| Made it to the movies with a marketing trick
|
| Come home greasy buckets of fried
|
| Fox in a box and a tux with a tie
|
| None will be the wiser or struck with surprise
|
| When we rock through the roof when the trucks have arrived
|
| «hold it down» alright fuck it, no one here is in ear shot of it
|
| They’re all talking beer and the tied up luggage
|
| Did you hide the knives by the dry rub bucket?
|
| Lead um out single file, tell them why the kids gone wild
|
| And when they try to get up with a dressed smile
|
| Get fed up and think of gitmo style
|
| We can take this all to heart, little by little we can fall apart
|
| Or we can let um find our kind
|
| In the back of the bus near the firing line
|
| Or we can give um one last hope
|
| Then push them off of the back of the boat
|
| Or we can give them wings and a couple of tries
|
| To let um figure out how we got this fly
|
| Pass the peas, mash and the beans
|
| At a rally to gather his faculties
|
| A little dog-day tension elude detection
|
| In the pews of the die-with-your-boots-on section
|
| What took 2 with a fusion of thirst and a punk jump view
|
| 3, Mallon with no regard
|
| Beyond full house clubs over lonely hearts
|
| I’m on cruise, the DWI is ramen and
|
| rooster sauce
|
| And still never cut the boosters off
|
| Until a room of consumers and moody Veruca Salts
|
| Can overlook a little whooping cough
|
| We all cooped, up, loops, drugs
|
| 8 bit-crowbar loosen the drums
|
| And become best friends like a noose and a lung
|
| Or cooter removing a duke from a truck
|
| Beep beep why y’all so slow, ok here’s how the blitz gon' go
|
| The second the poisonous sun is gone
|
| I want silverbacks on the Jumbotron
|
| My bad if Columbo’s on, we don’t plan really these things very well
|
| Arm in the sky, one to the side, why
|
| That spells L, take one and resign |