The touching story of ungrateful velcro skulled boy
And his tored-off face
Plus a life-sized sacked marionette
He’d thought looked an awful lot like him
With his time told and mildewed
Baby clothes of a business man
Jerk wackoff slumped
He’s tired, with bad posturing
One can’t hold in
There’s a king of jungle, give our-
Middle of America’s valise
But spare the gauze, he’s losing poet by the gallon
Glory, Glory
Bottom of the quicksand’s gonna give him a
Whole lot less to think about
Than change that steel trap pеrspective would
P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-perhaps
I’vе been
Living
As a record
Skipped film*strip*
I’m falling off the side of the boat
And when I hit water
I’m falling off the side of the boat
I fall asleep hoping
Tomorrow tastes like poems and honeysuckle
I move slow cause the sky looks bluer
When you f#ck the order of the day
Or the way the shelves were meant to fit
I wish I had a pair of stilts to wear
While I play the flute in some
Light-traffic hallway in my old high school
But these are only threats to the seated self
Maybe Spain is the open-faced smile
From some life I saw in a movie
And always thought I’d live
Jackpot!
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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