Big pain. Burnin' down. Givin' me a cow. What you seem to be saying. Is you're patiently waiting. Like an ashtray for the butt. . Well I'm puttin' it down.
The countryside is overgrown. There's a lighthouse in her soul. Wrestling with butcher girls. She don't ever change her clothes. . Masterpieces liquidate in fertile tears.
The tortures, the torment. Pink noise, delicious. The danger, the victims. Demeaning religion. She rides, she rolls. Olympic control. Her bricks assaultin'.
Don't tell your right hand baby. What your left hand do. You know those road check girls. Will make your brown breath blue. . Peaches and Cream. You make a garbage man scream.
Just like a paper tiger. Torn apart by idle hands. Through the halter skelter morning. Fix yourself while you still can. . No more ashes to ashes. No more cinders from the sky.
Tonight the city is full of morgues. And all the toilets are overflowing. There's shopping malls coming out of the walls. As we walk out among the manure.
Tonight the city is full of morgues. And all the toilets are overflowing. There's shopping malls coming out of the walls. As we walk out among the manure.
I wake up and look. Upon your painted eyelids. The world is your oyster. And the trashbags are your kids. The ceiling is invisible. There's a bird sinkin' through the sky.