You get the ankles
and I'll get the wrists.
You get the ankles
and I'll get the wrists.
You get the ankles
and I'll get the wrists.
You come down to this.
Nerves are up
and the eyes all screwy
Blood like a panful
of boiling ratatouille
A Mussel's in a mess
like a mess of sphagetti
Hack through the mess
with a freezed up machetti
Hang from the axles of a box car
Follow the dotted line
Like a steer to Chicago
to the hooks of the Chicago man
I get all tripped up
my eyes turn to water
rug burns from a shag rug
struck dumb in the presence
polyester burns from a jacket
rub the skin thin
Down To This
текст песни Soul CoughingКомментарии:
Войдите или зарегистрируйтесь, чтобы оставить комментарий