| Finish up mama, you vicious carnivore
|
| It’s all been taken care of, the settlement, the score
|
| They’ve had it up to here with us, we’re out of this canteen
|
| I always beg to differ when I don’t know what they mean
|
| Lord, I’m, I stir and can’t believe
|
| Been here for a quarter a century
|
| Soft becomes hot money
|
| Sent out for a colored stoney and I need it
|
| Grasping for the balm of Gilead
|
| The house, wings
|
| In madness and in lost decree
|
| Oh I, I got even
|
| Grasping for the balm of
|
| Growin' out of my head are pulsating cuts, combs
|
| The fluid makes the background pale, it’s too across the home
|
| Quiver in the cradle, borrow if it’s too less
|
| Keep it goin' to a cardiac arrest
|
| Lord, I’m, I stir and can’t believe
|
| Been here for a quarter a century
|
| Soft becomes hot money
|
| Sent out for a colored stoney and I need it
|
| Grasping for the balm of Gilead
|
| The house, wings
|
| In madness and in lost decree
|
| Oh I, I got even
|
| Grasping for the balm of Gilead |