| Every thought’s a game
|
| A pack of chimps I cannot tame
|
| You’re wondering who to blame
|
| Now your ride has come up lame
|
| Fortress full of hate
|
| Fears and hopes all pound the gate
|
| To early, it’s too late
|
| What is evil, which is great?
|
| Pigs are sheep and cats are dogs
|
| And thoughts are made of Lincoln Logs
|
| To tend to the mice and wood
|
| Where black is blue and bad is good
|
| Thoughts that I keep my money in
|
| Melt some wax and chunks of tin
|
| Forget your name, how to walk and ignore
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| The light shining in from under the door
|
| Thoughts like a thread through a foam device
|
| Liquid bread and rubber ice
|
| Make a promise, grow teeth, go to bed
|
| Wake up when you’re dead
|
| Pigs are sheep and cats are dogs
|
| And thoughts are made of Lincoln Logs
|
| To tend to the mice and wood
|
| Where black is blue and bad is good
|
| Pigs are sheep and cats are dogs
|
| And thoughts are made of Lincoln Logs
|
| To tend to the mice and wood
|
| Where black is blue and bad is good
|
| Pigs are sheep and cats are dogs
|
| And thoughts are made of Lincoln Logs
|
| To tend to the mice and wood
|
| Where black is blue and bad is good |