Like a cactus shellac on a pterodactyl's back
a photosynthesizing plastic hind-leg rising tactic from a uromastyx
the New Ronson pipe sipped by Shelly Johnson with the Leo Johnson
chipe, it's on son
and the shackles
and the sacks of giggles
lizard in a lady's skin a breeze away no need to feed the animals
we kick it with the cannibals
lizard in a lady's skin
your meat smells like cheese, cheese, cheese, cheese
your meat smells like cheese. cheese, cheese
cheese
baba baba gosha
baba baba gosha
I wonder if we wander just to watch our shadows doubtful
mirror line mime in motion inscribed with strife for a lifetime
like knife the the heinz,it all rolls back to incompetent design
it all rolls back door cause I'm anxious
bit by bit by bit and streaming live from spaceships
trippin slippery thinking bout why consciousness always freezes into groups
so i swoop down the towers of you and crush through rush hour traffic
laugh to myself and bask in the city's silence
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