Out here in magnetic fields
Seeming eager for the quicksand
Short shifting and constantly fencing
Roll up your 'on guard'
Or I'm inclined to use the trap door
Triage nurse nursery rhymes us to the front line
There's a clock on the floor step on it in good time

You see some treason just don't blow over
So you drill a hole in the frontal lobe
And beside it a mole hills near a revolving door
For drunken musicians and their worthless opinions
That deflated your decisions for all those slivering years

Now you're aiming to murder high horse in your throat
Chiming in falsetto
Bear claws fumbling on guitar
Bearing down
To the tune of ancient carol
Sing five drunks in santa suits
Changing mood rings for tinsel town and filling emergency room

Glued together you were target practice
Glued together you were target practice

Glued together this boat shot full of holes
Bailing out spurious quotes
You were target practice for the pseudo-intellectual
Triage nurse nursery rhymes us to the front of the line
There's a clock on the floor step on it in good time

Cold shoulder melting closer to the ice-age
Lent a hand by reaching in the sharks cage
Roll up your 'on guard' or I'll be forced to use tranquilizers
Those Astoria girls snicker under their whores breath
Now you're aiming to murder high horse in your throat
Chiming in falsetto
Bear claws fumbling on guitar
Bearing sound
To the tune of ancient carol
Sing five drunks in santa suits
Changing mood rings for tinsel town
And filling emergency room

Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid
Writer(s): Ryan Dahle