Naturally the dying man wonders to himself:. Has commentary been more lucid than anybody else?. And had he successively beaten back the rising tide. Of idiots, dilettantes, and fools.
Jesus Christ, girl. What are people gonna think. When I show up to one of several funerals. I've attended for grandpa this week. With you. With me. . Someone's got to help me dig.
We'd like to play just another song for you all. Another latte-sippin' jam. . Jesus Christ, girl. What are people gonna think?. When I show up to one of several funerals.
Everyman needs a companion. Someone to turn his thoughts to. I know I do. Everyman needs a companion. Someone to console him. Like I need you. . John the baptist took Jesus Christ.
Emma eats bread and butter. Like a queen would have ostrich and cobra wine. We'll have satanic Christmas Eve. And play piano in the chateau lobby. . I've never done this.
Emma eats bread and butter. Like a queen would have ostrich and cobra wine. We'll have satanic Christmas Eve. And play piano in the chateau lobby. . I've never done this.
When the god of love returns. There'll be hell to pay. Though the world may be out of excuses. I know just what I would say. Let the seven trumpets sound.
One side says. "Y'all go to hell.". The other says. "If I believed in God, I'd send you there.". But either way we make some space. In the hell that we create.
I'm gonna steal some bedsheets. From an amputee. I'm gonna mount em on a canvas. In the middle of the gallery. I'm gonna tell everybody. It was painted by a chimpanzee.
That was the last New Year I'll ever see. And I wanna stay on that magic mountain. With lost souls and beautiful women. I drank some of Farmer's potion.
When my personal demons are screaming. And when my door of madness is half-open. . You stand alongside. And say something to the effect. That everything will be alright soon, smoochie.
Take off, little winged creature. It's nothing but teens in ravines. And antics on concrete down here. And are you really as free as all the great songs would have me believe?.
What's there to lose. For a ghost in a cheap rental suit. Clinging to a rock that is hurtling through space?. . And what's to regret. For a speck on a speck on a speck.
Dance like a butterfly and drink like a fish. If you're bent on taking demons down with only your fist. And I've never known anyone who could lose himself in a bigger paper bag.