Scrape me of the belly of
Air Force Ones and square i wish my mother loved me
more's tongues...
Where they
don’t hellen their valor
in the hire of cowards
top speeds
out of your hermetic retreat
knockneed
by the ever present beep beeps
crossbreed
polarities that would be neat
gosh jeez
these personalities could pre-heat
ricotta cheese
oozing out the company's teat
drop to your knees
until the boss screams "skeet skeet"
or jot freely
on this fermented tea leaf
God speed
expressionism has no cheat sheet
eyeballs bleed
when you play my clip on repeat
fall to your knees, f*cker
this is no politico shmoe stump
but it is my proto-punk
for fools who don't know stuff
throwing dinner parties in a SoHo dump
you can't hear it unless you grow your nuts