Still busting all the rules to ashes,
Rub ‘em on my chest.
An epic fail ad fin is fun and et-cet, Bet!
Backboard now firewood
Howlin’ at the moon.
Ridin’ on the Green Line
My stop be comin’ soon.
Silent in the belfry now
Ate up all the bats.
Move on into diffidence
A golden stench morass.
Nine year number cycle only took me five
I told you muzzah-fussahs now
Death can look alive.
Three tongues can get along better than one
Figure that riddle, doll, you ready use the gun.
Man he come around again in black trenchcoat
His horns a little longer, halo ‘round his throat
Stangehouse
Titmouse
Press, press, press
Discover the polarity in mixing up laments
Disorder, tri-polar explosive endless bomb
Watch the babies grow up and bang bitches to moms
So hit me dollar make me holler
Silent as the moon
Don’t bogart the bottle, son
My time be comin’ soon
Hear the yowlin’ train?
Singin hound blues.
Hell-hound blues.
Rot-gut booze
Me worn out like some shoes.
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