Pull the car over you're frightening the kids.
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What did you promise us about grinning in the rear veiw mirror without your fake teeth in?
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Keep your glass eye glued on the end of the highway up ahead of us.
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The collision is always licking it's lips.
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You weren't supposed to open the door.
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Just keep the plane from drifting off course.
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We'll attend to the terrified first class convinced there's a hoof print on the bow.
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All hail the wounded heart contingment who've given us something more than faultlessness to sing about.
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Long live prosthetic live wires.
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The faulty mechanism of hope has disintegrated.
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Your captain nailed his feet to someone else's ship at the sight of me.
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Do what your mother tells you and put down the sheriff's horse.
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The choir on the black box rejoiced splendidly, singing hallelujah the king is dead.
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The king is dead.
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Gloom and How It Gets That Way
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| Every Time I Die |
