Inflicted by hounds
Jesus lizard
Blistering outburts, like burning a bratwurst at the PTA's
playground ordeal
Too bad you've erased all the times you've been chased by some
pre-schoolers new cannonball
Bandage the wounds inflicted by hounds and press the rib meat
right back inside
A dozen old ladies who visit from Hades have filed their art
down to a point
No need, no need no need no need, no need no need
No need to be harried, whether unique or varied, you'll find the
bigger lumps real tough to hide
Simply a lard ass, a festering hard mass, the tumors help the
doctors decide, but
They're wrong, they're wrong, they're wrong
The catch of the day is now getting away cuz the strong boy is
losing his grip
His eye cannot focus where his forefinger poke us but the
blankets are soft and they're warm
They're warm, they're warm they're warm, they're warm, they're
warm they're warm
While the kid in the street with the blood on his feet is eating
handgun burritos with cheese
Ideas are like treasure but they're harder to measure even with
our new technology
They're wrong, they're wrong, they're wrong
(I was talking to my, my buddy Bernie, about these hooker
people, fuckin' puke, I think they eh..forget it)
Hundreds of potholes, and half full beer bottles
Gazpacho, gestapo, gefilte, guerilla
Tiny childish plans to assassinate the tutor
A docile seeing eye dog, who owns his own computer
The local union workers ready willing and they're able
Elementary principle who drinks under the table
playground ordeal
Too bad you've erased all the times you've been chased by some
pre-schoolers new cannonball
Bandage the wounds inflicted by hounds and press the rib meat
right back inside
A dozen old ladies who visit from Hades have filed their art
down to a point
No need, no need no need no need, no need no need
No need to be harried, whether unique or varied, you'll find the
bigger lumps real tough to hide
Simply a lard ass, a festering hard mass, the tumors help the
doctors decide, but
They're wrong, they're wrong, they're wrong
The catch of the day is now getting away cuz the strong boy is
losing his grip
His eye cannot focus where his forefinger poke us but the
blankets are soft and they're warm
They're warm, they're warm they're warm, they're warm, they're
warm they're warm
While the kid in the street with the blood on his feet is eating
handgun burritos with cheese
Ideas are like treasure but they're harder to measure even with
our new technology
They're wrong, they're wrong, they're wrong
(I was talking to my, my buddy Bernie, about these hooker
people, fuckin' puke, I think they eh..forget it)
Hundreds of potholes, and half full beer bottles
Gazpacho, gestapo, gefilte, guerilla
Tiny childish plans to assassinate the tutor
A docile seeing eye dog, who owns his own computer
The local union workers ready willing and they're able
Elementary principle who drinks under the table
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