Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Zookeeper, artist - Honey Claws. Album song Honey Claws, in the genre ЭлектроникаDate of issue: 31.12.2007
Record label: Tierra
Song language: English
Zookeeper |
| Hm, tiger, tiger, I feel for you |
| Illest hunter inside the coupe |
| Naughty smack yacks with the fuel for that |
| Chisel at the bars till the two crack an EP |
| Baby got a heart that beats |
| Roadrunner, tangent, cartoon freak |
| Obsessed much with the sure to catch bloody mess pending |
| Crush on coyote 'cause her cause ain’t bending |
| Vickie, vulture, lack the culture and the combination of, the look sucks |
| Hunter books to slay the prey in any nook |
| Cranny, cranberry, babble speech dictionary |
| Hairy knuckle, fuckin' shaving with a razor from zoo-keep Larry |
| On a mound of breeding well exceeding your target |
| Output, future speech, I beseech your outlook |
| Poetically blunt, vasectomy cunt |
| Don’t you ever get lucked 'cause you’re bound to get fucked |
| 67 bucks, finger, touch scaly backside |
| Whale dick running shit, photograph archived |
| All the time through the night: mental drills from here to Turkey |
| Chicken worm food, worky-work for my jerky poo |
| Monkey do junky pee, moat around the titty tree |
| Kitty scene, lap the teet, lap the wicky-wicked king |
| Zookeeper own a beeper hitting up the cheater cheetah |
| For some cheeba late at night, he’ll smoke him if he doesn’t feed it right (woo, |
| error) |
| All the people that we know are animals behind mechanical |
| Devices handed license they could die at any time |
| Sitting in between the birth canal and incandescent tunnel is the chance |
| To feed the wild side, feed the fucker right |
| All the people that we know are animals behind mechanical |
| Devices handed license they could die at any time |
| Sitting in between the birth canal and incandescent tunnel is the chance |
| To feed the wild side, feed the fucker right |
| Out of practice, platy-pussy pack the mattress |
| Stacked up to ceiling speakin' foul in captions |
| How many hybrids can we fit in a dorm |
| Before it starts to look zoo-similar, off-shore |
| Scoping from the window-sill, telescope, nerdy-skilled |
| Americana surf song, thunder-thighed people are real |
| They exist unless you can’t make-pretend |
| You’re really all alone in power-animal dens |
| I’m Jack’s naggin' pansy-mind |
| Today I bitched a lot and had a damn good time |
| Complicated confiscation of the space behind the face |
| Replace it with the spongy self-absorbent waste paste |
| And I’m dense, way to dense to approach |
| Shallow motherfuckers get evaporated way before |
| They step into the alpha circle |
| Drawn in purple droopy nurple-urkle pants, dance till I’m all alone |
| That’s what I want |
| That’s what I want |
| That’s what I want |
| I’m such a fucking animal |
| That’s what I want |
| That’s what I want |
| That’s what I want |
| You’re such a fucking animal |
| All the people that we know are animals behind mechanical |
| Devices handed license they could die at any time |
| Sitting in between the birth canal and incandescent tunnel is the chance |
| To feed the wild side, feed the fucker right |
| All the people that we know are animals behind mechanical |
| Devices handed license they could die at any time |
| Sitting in between the birth canal and incandescent tunnel is the chance |
| To feed the wild side, feed the fucker right |