Bitter Drink
Gasoline was a popular drink and it still is
Trying to get away, I was a child at the age of 4
Dad with a rubber hose, me nervous, shaking by the car door
Tube goes in the gas tank, now begins the cyphon
Spitting fuel out of his mouth, lost ones prone to taste both chemicals and
Cyphers. The erratic for whole-lifers
Trying to avoid becoming the sort of man that i carry this pink knife for
Of course, running on no sleep, a head full of regrets
I faced a couple courtrooms but they haven't stopped me yet
If it wasn't for bad luck? I'd be just as uninspired as you
The cornerstone beneath a house of fucking ill repute
My existence is defiance. My needle's in the red
My mode is self reliance but so much of me is dead.
This is how the cookie crumbles. This is how the state decays
A million little fumbles lead you shambling towards the grave
There is no take away that isn't just more giving
But our options are quite simply: stop breathing or keep living.
Gasoline was a popular drink and it still is
The bitter taste of acrid acrimony, smoke on the water, fire in the
Belly of the savage beast my music soothes; it's a magic flute. It's not a
Warp whistle. it'll have to do, it'll transport you to the Black
Lagoon to the dark side of the moon and back, feel the crack of the plastic
Spoon as it melts. You don't have to be wracked with doom to pack this
Room, but it helps! Inanimate afternoons
When your plan of attack is moot; speaking rabbits and rats and raccoons with
Bad attitudes and habits and habitudes. Let 'em
Eat cake but I'm damned if they'll have it, too, when I
Wheatpaste my pleas and entreaties over wack graffiti to
Form a formal treatise on the political discourse
I give forth like Cicero at the tomb of Archimedes. While our
Hearts are beating, well-meaning darling little boys
Don't bother, Sigmund Freud, I mean my father drinks Laphroiag like it was
Water. We all have been destroyed and seek our solace in
Sleep. You've got two options, nod off or keep a promise to me
Gasoline was a popular drink, and it still is
It only takes one child to raze a village
And i carry that kid in a sling til its late thirties
Pour out my bitter drink and stay thirsty
Trying to get away, I was a child at the age of 4
Dad with a rubber hose, me nervous, shaking by the car door
Tube goes in the gas tank, now begins the cyphon
Spitting fuel out of his mouth, lost ones prone to taste both chemicals and
Cyphers. The erratic for whole-lifers
Trying to avoid becoming the sort of man that i carry this pink knife for
Of course, running on no sleep, a head full of regrets
I faced a couple courtrooms but they haven't stopped me yet
If it wasn't for bad luck? I'd be just as uninspired as you
The cornerstone beneath a house of fucking ill repute
My existence is defiance. My needle's in the red
My mode is self reliance but so much of me is dead.
This is how the cookie crumbles. This is how the state decays
A million little fumbles lead you shambling towards the grave
There is no take away that isn't just more giving
But our options are quite simply: stop breathing or keep living.
Gasoline was a popular drink and it still is
The bitter taste of acrid acrimony, smoke on the water, fire in the
Belly of the savage beast my music soothes; it's a magic flute. It's not a
Warp whistle. it'll have to do, it'll transport you to the Black
Lagoon to the dark side of the moon and back, feel the crack of the plastic
Spoon as it melts. You don't have to be wracked with doom to pack this
Room, but it helps! Inanimate afternoons
When your plan of attack is moot; speaking rabbits and rats and raccoons with
Bad attitudes and habits and habitudes. Let 'em
Eat cake but I'm damned if they'll have it, too, when I
Wheatpaste my pleas and entreaties over wack graffiti to
Form a formal treatise on the political discourse
I give forth like Cicero at the tomb of Archimedes. While our
Hearts are beating, well-meaning darling little boys
Don't bother, Sigmund Freud, I mean my father drinks Laphroiag like it was
Water. We all have been destroyed and seek our solace in
Sleep. You've got two options, nod off or keep a promise to me
Gasoline was a popular drink, and it still is
It only takes one child to raze a village
And i carry that kid in a sling til its late thirties
Pour out my bitter drink and stay thirsty
Credits
Writer(s): Jesse Mcdonald
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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