Lyrics Republicans In Love - Thought Industry

Republicans In Love

Sorry, I’m drunk dear.
It happens all the time
Honestly, I thought I loved you.
Too bad you’re so
Damn lame.
Scare me with the chance to die by people I
Would call friends.
I guess it’s a lovely trick.
I probably
Should enlist
Grind me meaty.
Wash me holy.
Chew me crust
Bloody.
Spit on me.
You know I trust you dead
GOP’s oily sudsing.
Attempting to wash what won’t
Rub.
Flossing gums, then licking bottoms.
Nonchalant
They’re gropping crotches.
Raped green by forty ounces
Shiny bliss.
My cocky drunk grin.
Pretentious for
Deceiving you.
You’re gullible for believing me
Grip cold drink starless starlet.
You’re the stench that
Sates him.
His zipper’s sticky on Sunday morn.
Ron’s a
Fist of cement late for breakfast
Emmanuel Kant.
Hamshackles, and first and ten
June bugs lick the horses teeth smiling in the grave of
Summer.
Assume texas stance.
Moled south for
Houston.
Toads dismembering flies.
Ill-behooved to
Miss them
I tend to think we are free