Hey yo yo yo yo yo I need an empire to overthrow You make me wish for a more dangerous life So I can show you 'bout self sacrifice Say yes yes yes yes
This kitchen has a king! This hand, this hand is a cunning little bugger With a habit of turning every A into a B Unless it's put to work There's a twitch
Blue Imelda, She's the saddest bitch in all of Spectrum She can't rely on business to keep herself satisfied For we are only farmers, and the love of
Oh basilisk, oh cockatrice The prophet was a child of flesh Stolen from the family creche And hidden in the wilderness A statue on a steepletop The prophet
Boys run like water from the barrel to the trough, they'll never stop their running Gunning for their brothers This house is a hostel, it is peaceful,
Try, try, try to arrange me But there's no romance in my blood Try, try, you'll never persuade me My only tears fall with the rain My father had a dozen
Trussed up like a rabbit, told what I can do and say, It's mine, it's mine nobody can take it away. And my love it is a wreckage, and my love it is my
I am not a sinner I fall asleep after dinner This table used to be my favorite tree A temper isn?t courage You eat too much and then purge Electric eyes
Lazy, you lazy poet, your words are reckless, and I can't feel it But hey, hey, all the boys I have ever loved have been digital I've been a guest, on
Hey, Dad, I've been floating down the river To the place you retired to Away from the women who despise you I've been sad, 'cause all my friends resent
I saved a junky once From falling out of a tree From tumbling, plumming to the peach-like Ground I reach Once a flood, and once the flu Death sits on
While you were out sexing I was a chef soaking One hundred tissues with sweat and moisturizer In my head burned a picture Of your face with my privates
Heave ho, farewell to the quay! Merry sailors, sailors we! The horizon is our proscenium! Our dead will come to know the sea Our cook is a wanted man,
the joy of having a baby is a wonderful thing to feel and the joy of getting married makes you really glad the joy of correct posture will certainly improve
My body is a cage. This union is cage about a cage about a cage. And this, and this town too. I'll see you once in a while but I can't be seen with you
it stream Watching it ebb, full of emotion My neighbour stares, I?m red as Mars (He?s smarter than a can of paint) ?It looks real nice,? he finally
Benito was fifteen when he went off to college I stayed home and tried to go with his best friend He told me he was going to cut my neck right across
The wella woods of Belvedere, The peat and moss of Avenroe, St. Germain's canaries, The fortress of Alpentine. Oh, my soul! My loyalty is to the East