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Saturn Missiles Lyrics

If you step on the lawn I keep the foot, peep
In the pot go six degrees of cooked geese;
Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas
Over ten meathooks with a blister each
I'm all pincher, fevery hoodie-on hoodie-off
Sweat through his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls
Never met a quiet storm
That didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns
That go click click clack in territorial syntax
Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back
Pinball whiz in a thimble of sims
I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged
Kiss me, I'm dead; nursing a mystery Dayquil
Led Zep staring daggers down page mill
How pray tell do he sit pretty
When the old one-two unglue in a tizzy

Please hold for the don't-play dull boy
Click, I am not a page or a pull toy
Came in the door and the floor is lava
Killjoy if your core more Norman Rockwell
Born homesick for an invisible address, batshit
b**ble and bat around catnip
One black heart katamari massive
Packed in a fat category 5 rat nest
Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace
Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy
I hate you (I hate you more)
No I hate you infinity
And Pangaea break into smithereens
Interlude presto change-o
If it move too quick oh-whey-oh
Right brain go right train Ramo
Moustache any old Monet, (no)
Yes
Merrily merrily merrily merrily
In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy
Frogmen schooled by the god Ed Emberley
Pull dog sleds and exhume dead Kennedys
Bet, moth into kerosene awful
A caution to strawmen lost on vaudeville
Amorally mixing business
With a hundred and forty-four Dixie whistlers
Lawnchair strongman twisted whiskers
NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers
Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ring-ers
Are you privy to the misadventures
It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street
With a lethally modified piccolo pete
There is admittedly an incredible mystique
To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep
48 strings of twelve
That ring ring ring whiz-bang jingle bells
And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy
Classic fire-in-the-hole backdrafting
Fold wildlife out of wolf pack wrapping
Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine
TNT plunger in all-caps ACME
Blast off half of the whole d*** mapscreen
No sling no spear
I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears
Who been stung by an unlinked pinky swear
During his what-in-the-f***-was-I-thinking years
Maybe an awkward phase
Like his acne and sophomore fade, played
Calling all out-of-work action figures
It was death by saturn missiles
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