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Of all the dirt that we dug, I think my favorite was the mud.
Of all the wine that we drank, I think my favorite was the blood.
Of all the bombs that we lit, I think my favorite was the dud.
Of all the things that we chew, I think my favorite is the cut
Of the cow. Like that time when we lie to and fro
Hope to throw. Tables turn, books that burn, hurt the shine,
Tilt the wheel, hold the hand, cop a feel, close the deal,
Like that time, turpentine, when we lie to and fro.
Of all the banks that we robbed, I think my favorite one was mine.
Of all the wine that we drank, I think my favorite was the blood.
Of all the bombs that we lit, I think my favorite was the dud.
Of all the things that we chew, I think my favorite is the cut
Of the cow. Like that time when we lie to and fro
Hope to throw. Tables turn, books that burn, hurt the shine,
Tilt the wheel, hold the hand, cop a feel, close the deal,
Like that time, turpentine, when we lie to and fro.
Of all the banks that we robbed, I think my favorite one was mine.
Of all the bushes that burned, the ones I liked talked wise and kind.
Of all the toys that we smashed, I think I liked the ones that wind.
Of all the beotches we pimp slapped, I liked the ones that did not mind
Over matter. Your head on a platter, put the bread in the batter-y acid,
Don't I scrink(?) on it, island on a sun, this side down, to the water,
You'll sell me your daughter, I'll plot a new course on a horse.
With no name droppin', pill poppin' son of a beotch
The bug bites make me iotch.
Of all the trees that we hugged, I think I liked the ones that died.
Of all the butts that we grabbed, I remember only the white ones.
Of all the whales that we beached, ya chose to blame it on the tide.
Of all the forks that we stole, just to jab each others eyes
Of the shape of the smoke, of the bang of the pipe.
Twist and turn, reckless burn, melting wax, melting hype.
Hurt to change, keep exchange, burning down, turning ripe.
Of the shape of the smoke, of the bang of the pipe.
Of all the toys that we smashed, I think I liked the ones that wind.
Of all the beotches we pimp slapped, I liked the ones that did not mind
Over matter. Your head on a platter, put the bread in the batter-y acid,
Don't I scrink(?) on it, island on a sun, this side down, to the water,
You'll sell me your daughter, I'll plot a new course on a horse.
With no name droppin', pill poppin' son of a beotch
The bug bites make me iotch.
Of all the trees that we hugged, I think I liked the ones that died.
Of all the butts that we grabbed, I remember only the white ones.
Of all the whales that we beached, ya chose to blame it on the tide.
Of all the forks that we stole, just to jab each others eyes
Of the shape of the smoke, of the bang of the pipe.
Twist and turn, reckless burn, melting wax, melting hype.
Hurt to change, keep exchange, burning down, turning ripe.
Of the shape of the smoke, of the bang of the pipe.
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