Pro life, pro choice, beauty queens Liquid Clorox, feminine hygiene Coca Cola, Tarter toothpaste Dial this number, slap it on my face Perfect placement
from my feast with a mallet No spoils are received by the king's fragile palate Stuffing myself on the blind adulation Fed full of self, it's intense
There is geography inside you, the mystic ocean is pristine It is the spirit realm, and you are at the helm where all the hungry souls convene Your instruments
the abstract style that it's broken ranks in and that master builder, who's ideals were so unyielding kept his self-respect and lost his shirt throwing
all those soothing empty greetings The Big Book is omniscient and I'm not self-sufficient Dependency's still coursing through my blood, I'm only changing drugs Self
dynamite in a six inch steel tube packed so tight It's gonna be disguised as a chocolate cake and sweets will be the President's last mistake I've been brooding, self
At the baseball park on Pigment street me and all my friends would meet Some were fat and some were thin but all of them had creamy skin And I never
Of all the world's perfections, we safely may assume the most blessed and untainted is the treasure in the womb We wait for revelations, some miracle
There was a star that was hidden in space - an undiscovered gem until it's denizens decided they had chosen the Dagon to give the gift to them So with
For three months in '92 when I was such a wreck I spent endless evenings with my face draped against your neck It hurt when I was empty and friends just
