My friends lost faith and, abandoned me
They had higher calling, and fake noses and tables scattered on purpose
I woke up in the rain a gloated coyote on my back
But now after months of white rooms and ties and handshakes and cleanliness they assure me I can speak of everything in this new cage
I made my rage, rage
In a hard black coat of a hoax a hangman's rope woefully provoked straight chokes and tied ropes
Its never ending, in the moneyed heart of a man, lower can attack
Busted and willfully planned
And jack toys stay properly, movement in the GPA plane in the world
Crusted to the herd of man bird, to top the pearl of neon glow (Oh)
Pixelated by dated monks, political drones phones and cones
And memory stones collected by Jim Jones
He grew up yella'
I grew up crusted musted and well
With some water in my hair and a song in my shell-sea'd heart
Starting to crush my own eardrum
But to the memory hum of the slum drummed scum
Of what I thought was right, but what was skewed in the night
Of the kite, [?]
Cease to make the home dignity throne, and a jacket full of bones
And ancient puzzle
Damn cardboard muscle shoved in gods love of angelus
Dig it? (Dig it? Dig it? Dig it?)
Dig it? (Dig it?)
Dig it? (Dig it?)
Sin my love?
Sin my love?
Sin my love?
Sin my love?
Sitting by the shriveled cowboy corpse
Moving to the time of them
Sirens outside in the rhythm broken stridden them
Tangled and bleeding was, the plastic in the sun and the
Eyes of the child, who ran away just to find that the
Church was a ruin, with the man dressed in black who was
Sweating, just hearing the sounds of his children
Gargling, burping like prophets in prison
And the pastor moaned and groaned as he
Twitched and be-walked, while perverts collected by the windows to watch
And they knew I had taken their picture away to my attic
Where the children would be fed different ways
And they known back there, black skies, guys and trench coats outside my home surrounding and shouting
Cause, we want the kids, and the kids and the kids are shouting
Free on myself and try to barter no way man dig this, dig this faster
Shine everybody, children and the trench coats are closing in
Running faster, pastors and [?] cookies, diamonds, past the [?] house, moans
Faster towards the forest, I slip up and there closing faster
There goes the pastor
Slip and they're there bartering souls, [?] through my braids in the river
I'm floating in wine, [?]
Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy all right me
(And as I sit by the shriveled cowboy corpse, moving to the time of them
Sirens outside in the rhythm broken stridden them, tangled and bleeding was, the plastic in the sun and the
Eyes of the child, who ran away just to find that the
Church was a ruin, with the man dressed in black who was
Sweating, just hearing the sounds of his children
Gargling, burping like prophets in prison
And the pastor moaned and groaned as he-
Eyes of the child, who ran away just to find that the...)
