LogFAQs > #904896617

Cutters of the pie, throw your summers in the sky
Collar-pop Jolly Roger die, motherfucker, die!
Apache on a ship shape, in Bristol fashion
Snuck a jammy through the red tape and tiptoed past him
Worm teeth grinding feverishly below
As little organic hacksaws eager to feed and grow
So when it's Blackhawk over the glass walk
They surface up through the cash crops
With clippers for your belly-up mascots and never dine alone
Meanwhile, back at sea level, it was home by home zone for zone
Bloom County's homeless riot for home ownership;
I hope you put gas in the motor-home and know the roads
I studied with the finest combs stuck under my thumb
As opposed to the loaded nose who pray Armageddon is numb
And that's unevenly rendered
To those who grew up thinking faith was a surrender of reason, but not a reason to surrender
Catch the Liberty Fires' catalog:
40 torched orchids and citronella for Algernon
Don and Vagabond, alike, repent
This shit should have been, "Beta burns Babylon. The End."
---

you can't spell american dream without eric andre