Number Nine
Deliver us from evil. Litter bugged amoeba simmer on the brimstone. Grim tone. Bring him home. Authoritative restoration will be rationed righteously to those deemed suitably fit to police their own sobriety. Standard law that wriggle intimate, mingle with coincidental mishap, then snap. Curse the digs. Yellow brick Zooka birthed the piss. I trust that every litigant will be his own worst pig. Thirst big, baby. I reckon y'all are a mess too, but insecurities will make your bio sound less cool. If fizzy lifting drinks are par for saddling your horse, you might consider sawing Sea Biscuit off at the knees before. Few chew sacred like them sewer cougars, patient 'til the Lugar movers daytrip with them super cookers blazing. Divvy up the remarkable carcass, what a relief. And y'all ain't even washed yesterday's blood off your teeth. Behind the buck-bin Duane Reade aviators plated with the dookie brown tint sit the googly off the daily paper. Clip red or blue. Either way the shredder chew. Letter to the editor messenger, let him through
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
I put a beetle on his back and take notes. Play a dealt hand. Kicks wing tips 'til the tank flips conveyor belt. Shelf a mayor saber for catering navy savior help who treat stray children like clay pigeons off the sailor's deck. He squeaks 'pull', I freak the wool over the owl eye; filter sheepish winter through its sister on the outside. Meanwhile back at HQ, he's twisting his moustache, hatching a plan to hate you. Shark fin dollar pay a ghost guild buckets. Hard pill to swallow and he knows pills, trust him. Drunkards of the crystal palace suck assignment, walk the diamonds in the soles of your chukkas back to the slaves who mined 'em. It's Raggedy Andy clan; fancy the pretty stitches 'til he learned the skinny on the fragility's physics. Like he snag a button eye on the fly by the barbs. Super glue the parts, now his students are alarmed. No worries, it's snow flurries compared to what the sheriff wish: curfew the city that must not. Bust warn shots at a run-of-mill Waldo on a doctor hunt, he will make the most wonderful sarcophagus occupant.
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
Rotten egg, not to be pegged as fashionably tardy. The difference is the latter got the freebies from the barkeep. Wait, Aes-fucking-Rock is in the building. The room looked up, looked down, kept sniffing. Slit the neck and slip the chip in, sipping anti-governmental zombie grog, but zombied up gladly on your Swiss Army watch. As if twitching upon your authored condition's really that different from administered conditioning glitches. Kissing a firewater pitcher with the fatal Drano-chase game. It's hiding in the Nang labeled with the day-glow face paint. Some buckle when the T-Rex treks shakes the puddles. My huggable jungle. My son of a dove cry, humble, even doves die. I took the black outta something to judge the lung by. I took the mag out like the crack out of a bum's pipe. I hook the tag up like a flag over the plum sky. Mud pie cruiser with an oink for the innocent, I blame it on the ambiguous quote/unquote system. If a quota needs some filling you're a whore. Sincerely yours, engine number nine conductor. All aboard.
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
I put a beetle on his back and take notes. Play a dealt hand. Kicks wing tips 'til the tank flips conveyor belt. Shelf a mayor saber for catering navy savior help who treat stray children like clay pigeons off the sailor's deck. He squeaks 'pull', I freak the wool over the owl eye; filter sheepish winter through its sister on the outside. Meanwhile back at HQ, he's twisting his moustache, hatching a plan to hate you. Shark fin dollar pay a ghost guild buckets. Hard pill to swallow and he knows pills, trust him. Drunkards of the crystal palace suck assignment, walk the diamonds in the soles of your chukkas back to the slaves who mined 'em. It's Raggedy Andy clan; fancy the pretty stitches 'til he learned the skinny on the fragility's physics. Like he snag a button eye on the fly by the barbs. Super glue the parts, now his students are alarmed. No worries, it's snow flurries compared to what the sheriff wish: curfew the city that must not. Bust warn shots at a run-of-mill Waldo on a doctor hunt, he will make the most wonderful sarcophagus occupant.
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
Rotten egg, not to be pegged as fashionably tardy. The difference is the latter got the freebies from the barkeep. Wait, Aes-fucking-Rock is in the building. The room looked up, looked down, kept sniffing. Slit the neck and slip the chip in, sipping anti-governmental zombie grog, but zombied up gladly on your Swiss Army watch. As if twitching upon your authored condition's really that different from administered conditioning glitches. Kissing a firewater pitcher with the fatal Drano-chase game. It's hiding in the Nang labeled with the day-glow face paint. Some buckle when the T-Rex treks shakes the puddles. My huggable jungle. My son of a dove cry, humble, even doves die. I took the black outta something to judge the lung by. I took the mag out like the crack out of a bum's pipe. I hook the tag up like a flag over the plum sky. Mud pie cruiser with an oink for the innocent, I blame it on the ambiguous quote/unquote system. If a quota needs some filling you're a whore. Sincerely yours, engine number nine conductor. All aboard.
Engine engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said uh, un-gowa, we got the power... Automatic systematic engine number nine, sock it to me one more time. Said un-gowa we got the power. Ok. Do your thing... Family, do your thing, do your thing, stop.
Credits
Writer(s): Ian Bavitz, James A Simon
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