flash that buttery gold, jittery zeitgeist wither by the watering hole, what a patrol, what are we to heart huckabee art fuckery suddenly? not enough young in his lung for the waterwings? colorfully vulgar poacher outta mulch like "i'm 'a pull the pulse out a soldier and bolt". fine. sign of the time we elapse when a primate climb up a spine and attach. eye for an eye by the bog's life swamps and vines, they get a rise out of frogs and flies, so when a dog fight's hog-tied prize sorta costs a life, the mouths water on a fork and knife, and the allure isnt right. it's gore on a war torn beach where the cash cow's actually beef. blood turns wine when it leak for police like that's not a riot it's a feast, let's eat
and i will remember your name and face on the day you are judged by the funhouse cast
and i will rejoice in your fall from grace with a cane to the sky like 'none shall pass'
if you never had a day a snow cone couldn't fix, you wouldn't relate to the rogue vocoder blitz, how he spoke thru a no-doz motor on the fritz, cuz he wouldn't play roll over fetch like a bitch, and express no regrets, though he isn't worth a homeowner's piss to the jokers who pose by the glitz. fine. sign of the swine in the swarm when a king is a whore who comply and conform. miles outside of the eye of the storm, with a siphon to lure out a prize and award, while avoiding the vile and bazaar that is violence and war, true blue triumph is more, like wait, let it snake up outta the centerfold, let it break the walls of jericho, ready? go. sat where the old cardboard city folk swap tales with heads like every other penny throw.
and i will remember your name and face on the day you are judged by the funhouse cast
and i will rejoice in your fall from grace with a cane to the sky like 'none shall pass'
ok woke to a grocery list. it goes like this: duty and death. anyone object come stand in the way, you could be my little snake river canyon today, and i ran with a chain of commands and a jet pack strap where the back-stab lands if it can. fine. sign of the vibe in the crowd when i cut a belly open to find what climbs out. what a bit of gusto he muster up, to make a dark horse rush like enough's enough, it musta struck a nerve so they huff and puff, til all the king's men fluster and clusterfuck, and it's a beautiful thing, to my people who keep an impressive wingspan even when the cubicle shrinks, you gotta pull up the intruder by the root of the weed, NY chew thru the machine
and i will remember your name and face on the day you are judged by the funhouse cast
and i will rejoice in your fall from grace with a cane to the sky like 'none shall pass'