Griddy to the Edge

In a winter's dream
Down by the river overflowing
Through the meadows' gleam
Imma griddy through the overgrowing

We can do whatever we want
We can fulfill our hearts
How old will I be?
When I realize, well thirty three

Cyanide pills I'm throwing
For I have a newborn in the house
And the edge overflowing
Dinner is prepared by my spouse

Casio keyboard filled with cheeto dust
With a brush in hand, I know what I must
I will detach my purple-tinted beak
For my headache is at the very peak

I build my base, in a desert filled with
Cactus and blow-up dynamite explosives
That will be detonated at pure impact

Two million generations pass on by
Sixty nine hundred transies in the night
Blown up

The click of honesty, or allergy
How many million generations die
Each day?

I dab up, I dab down
I dab up, I dab down

I charge my laptop with a potato
How old will be, before the next
World war?

The text is written on the top and the
The bottom, for it is the bottom text
Bottom text

I dab up, I dab down
I dab up, I dab down
I dab up, I dab down

I dab up, I dab down
I dab up, I dab down