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We took your invitations and shoved them down into your eyesockets one by one Fly on you fat bastards, fly on hot rod classics Out at the ball park or up in your office You're never alone while our work goes on False impressions are your grave Misdirections across the waves Come back around to me [Fly on, fat bastards, fly on, hot rod classics] Vermin shades of AT&T. No one likes to answer questions less than me-myself-a-lees But strength is hard to come by in the freeze. Burial Dub: CRY FI DEM!!!!!!!! Crap went down Hello, young lovers, I have interceded on behalf of what frosted golden spirochete? I'm oversee communication lines One-weight prophets Signals ingested with conversion charts Young but not invisible lovers all From pole to pole to soul Vicious businesses aside, you know Send out my agents to mark freeze With fluid "the man who shot women" Letras de cancionesFull of men that I may seem. Across the planetary shine My loneliness cuts circles Somewhere I wait for dawn She waits strange and whole Old Paris knots Sword swallower's gut Blue blood until the vein is cut That is why I'm living cold Strange that I'm cold Electric spider, radio wire Crawls across the skin At Jimmy West's on Park I can slip right in Direct hits scored With shots in the dark. Just like your friendly astronauts of recent history Jackyl faith launches penetration in controlled trajectories And meanwhile, I haven't got the faintest clue of how to use myself to do the best for you I don't know what to do and you don't know what you're doing. I'd like to thank the thugs on the empire's fringe for letting me work inside like a syphilis, now Move aside or you're twilight What a devilish cut you are Big like the fine fingered side that falls like sheets of rain A sweet or not sweet killer, beautiful or ugly High-fisted sword man And after a while I get the angles strangled and high, man Like you'll never call or write with any frequency to me When the spiral robot monkey come a knockin' upon your sleeping crest When the spiral robot monkey come a knockin' upon your sleeping crest He's gonna drill his monitor into your heaving breast When the monkey satellitus is in your body map When the monkey satellitus is in your body map You're not gonna know all the shadows he shows When zap turns into crap From Letras Mania