i'll get you one of these days,
anyway;
tin can alley doomsday,
hooray;
cans of acid spray,
in the basement of our youth parade.
Fatally questing,
for a truth we've never known;
to get back to the story,
and the green grass bare bones.

I hear that man a' shouting,
from heaven's cloudy nook,
baby darling's deer eyes,
glowing wet,
like they were shook.
Passionately declaring, my love for saints is real!
The yellow bulldozer is whirring,
how's boy's love to cop their feel.

Baby black bear's purring,
watch our for momma, she's lost her pill;
dreary snow come calling,
i know that dream scape will...

I hear that man a' shouting, from cloudy shaken nook;
"i hate that you were smoking,
instead of reading that ****** book."

Give a little chance, for the living to go on,
my darlings in the brush,
you're almost there, where i've known.


jingle jangle jingle bingle janggggg....

-cbrander