Bullhorn:
|
"Save the falsetto valentines for the black ice cube toast, for the filth roast."
|
|
Classified:
|
You know she looks so clinique,
|
but when you think she's asleep,
|
we're watching from inside the pilots seat.
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Because unfortunately this Marylin Monroe is a secret Zeppelin
|
whose sweat rains down napalm confetti on all black tie celebrations.
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Bullhorn:
|
Tear out your carnivorous toupee for the afro fire,
|
save your hors'dovours for the boiling lobster choir.
|
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Classified:
|
You know she looks so vulnerable in that snakeskin shawl,
|
but we're watching through her cut out eye holes
|
(because unfortunately this Marylin Monroe is a Secret Zepplin
|
known towing a sign across the Coca-cola sky that reads S.S. Penetration)
|
|
God Bless you Bloodthirsty Zeppelins!
|
|
Technique:
|
And now we're flying over the past
|
and future butchered from out brains and left to rot.
|
And now we're flying over the television towers
|
plastering the air with the filthy film of prayer.
|
We don't need a blueprint, we don't need a blue print
|
the blue prints me, the blue prints you.
|
|
Classified:
|
We'll build our engines from hijacked hymans.
|
Propellers churning in whispered fury.
|
We'll pluck our bombs from the greased pouch
|
of your presidents propighanda pupa louse.
|
|
Message received:
|
"Honey I'll be home late, from the office today,
|
up to my neck in paperwork, yeah,
|
my boss is such a jerk."
|
|
Telephone wire:
|
"Yeah she bought the story...there's a motel up the street...
|
so show me your surrender face baby"
|
|
Bullhorn:
|
Unfortunately this Marylin Monroe is a secret Zeppelin
|
set on a crash coarse with your cumshot museum
|
with the blowjob bunny mansion.
|
|
Technique:
|
And now we're flying over factories manufacturing authentic ecstacy.
|
And now we're flying over the swamp
|
that brews the biggest smiles, cackling teeth in piles.
|
And now we're flying over the globe
|
derobed all the houses x-rayed all our thoughts exposed.
|
And all the copyrighted memories in my head spill to the floor
|
in a puddle of hungry lead.
|
And while the traffic weaves human tapestry's
|
we sing a chord to the frustriation symphony.
|
Unfortunately this marylin monroe is a secret zepplin...
|
|
-----------------
|
God Bless You Blood Thirsty Zeppelins
|
The Blood Brothers |