Thought Industry Lyrics
Thought Industry Lyrics
"Patiently Waiting For Summer Lyrics"
Emma Lyrics
We were together since we were five She was so pretty Emma was a star in everyone's eyes And when she said she'd be a movie queen
We were together since we were five She was so pretty Emma was a star in everyone's eyes And when she said she'd be a movie queen
Here's my garden. Rowed lilacs drip purple. Crane
park's slick dawn dew. Twilight. Clock's twenty past
four. Packed five vitamin C blot Akbar gushing . Brian
climb soda need, Chuck, Chris, and Colin.
Apple trees stiff swirling circles. You are me are
more than perfect. Darl
Old Wicketshit!!! (Remix) Lyrics
(CHORUS) Some old wicket shit Some old wicket shit (for you) Some old wicket shit (for you) Midnight's the witches hour A
ing don't erase my blood.(CHORUS) Some old wicket shit Some old wicket shit (for you) Some old wicket shit (for you) Midnight's the witches hour A
Here's my garden. Zoo glare pond snapping.
Cricket's night opera. Moths float teasing possums.
Mice jest herons hysterical syrup slow. Sleep cream
siamese scratch walls. Girls, I don't care.
Mog the cat, and marble quarry. You and me should
qui
Cowbirds Lyrics
Pack the truck under the moon Jesus Christ, my lips are red You ask a lot of the moon When you ask me to forget I never asked
k get married. For I believe in no god; and no godPack the truck under the moon Jesus Christ, my lips are red You ask a lot of the moon When you ask me to forget I never asked
believes in me.
Kiss me, all right. Jane tastes spiced and learned red
wine. Hug me precious, our family picnics near. Pass
malt juice. Clutz spill on K-zoo.
Here's my garden. Grass to toll tar pillars. Melted
lanes ref
Bloodshed Lyrics
Fighting in the street The strong survive you'll see Pacing every move We will not be tamed I wonder if you think of
lect gins berg benches money. UkraineFighting in the street The strong survive you'll see Pacing every move We will not be tamed I wonder if you think of
sculpture paisley gasoline. west edge hill stars burrow
down.
Suburb driving stealth headlights off. You and me
should burn our clothing, for I retreat from no god; and
no god retreats from me. Why? I lust july's sun.