Dumb diggy, bump Biggie Til the landlady holler, "Get a haircut, hippie!" The death knell generator entertain a fresh kill Breath quell dressed like a bloated sack of dead cells Shedding, purple tape, purple hawk ape A single flower through the permafrost Pick himself and learn to walk in furry pants War paint circling a duralog Four-faced devil by his side like a service dog Shlock purists watch the block burneth One o clock prophets in the parking lot at perkins The perfect politician's thirty clicks outside of Sturgis Doggy bag doctors, military deserters Who still shop surplus and can't hold jobs I look like I'm wearing a ghillie suit but I'm not Roll out ghost of Camu on the pegs Might pedal by the police Tough with two F's Ah fuck that shit look Can't tell if I'm a little withdrawn Or dead dogs set to quote unquote live on a farm The coke bottles tint film noir Trippin' out the milk bar Poison horchata cup Milf in a zip car Six arms six hand styles like ships on scrimschaw Part Def Jam part Dischord My wig picker threw me out of her office Had the cold turkey benzo summer was awesome Onion a benzie's[?] Summer was awesome Got brats on the grill Wormwood in a cauldron Horse hoof in the dog's mouth Cholera in a well Make money periodically vomiting on himself I read Nat Geo craft and crack geodes Lift party hats out of Craft Depot Unleaded mire blood pumped through his neck Came down from the mountain Tough with two F's: ... TUFF TUFF (What's so funny? You, what are you laughing at? I said what are you laughing at?) Before player ever met his omega They were effectively reducing his behavior into data With plans to build a dais where the People grow potatoes and cabbage Don't make him raise the gate between the bettas In a spectacle display in the nature of strange neighbors I paint caves til the rage campaign tapers Show a new crop how he used to moonwalk Out of breath like a seven day old balloon dog I still hang band posters and buy black lights Crib decorated like a dorm room at Brandeis Still pretend I'm gonna build another half-pipe Nevermind the fort era christening in pantsize Man, who could've guessed the future of abominal imagery Would also share a birthday with Kenny G? None The ninety-nine cent two cents keeps two arms folded Tough with two F's Yeah, let's do it like that Unh I pay a guy to lean over steepled fingers Then convince me to pay him for his teas and tinctures The string cheese dinner kid speak Cheech wizard Fore I'm gone like Gossamer under number three clippers Three forged in various pulp channels Even his prized horse rides a wolf into battle Even his blood and body couldn't pick him out a line up Or his name off the paper It's Aes pronounced "why us" First learn the high art of eyeing a mark Buying nickels for a dime at the park I learned to rhyme in New York I learned to breathe underwater I learned to walk with a ghost Adidas reeking of sulfur A children's cemetery font When home is a bleeding ulcer Everything you've ever stood up for is keeling over Moon set beautifying Cartoon death catfish on a farm And tough with two F's Yeah

I'm such a party pooper Always looking for the downside But I think it's growing dark and It doesn't look like it's getting better And Unicorns are not so special They're just horses with a horn If anything they are more dangerous And probably self-important I know I'm such a wet blanket Yeah I was born in the day of the quarrel And maybe I'm getting old too But I swear that's how I've always been And Marmaids are not so charming either They probably smell of fish I mean, they have a fishtail! And sex would be disgusting too Oh what is the matter with me? What it is that makes me such a drag? Well I'm trying to understand Yeah to get to the crux of the matter Logic is dying By the hands of Feeling And truth is threatened by Bombastic speeches Oh Oh and they could go on and on They can go on and on Here is the church and Here is the steeple We sure are snob for Two clueless people The world as it is Is indeciphrable I can't help but try To get to the bottom of things

Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes It should be loud as fuck Hope the swans don't die There should be burning sun And naked slaves And if the police show up We'll give them so much money it will make them cry And forgive us Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes Not the green eyes Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes Not the green eyes Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes Not the green eyes Yeah, there should be day glow strippers Ones from the Amazon Some edible butterflies We put ketchup on Some motorcycle stunts That always crash And if the police show up We'll bribe them into helping us steal the light of love From the rainbow sluts that live next door Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes Not the green eyes Yeah, there should be unicorns The ones with the purple eyes Not the green eyes At first there should be unicorns. The ones with the purple eyes, not the ones with green eyes. Whatever they give them, they shit everywhere. And it would be great if the moon was almost down. Like in a very red/orange state. Let's leave it like that for at least three hours, hovering just above the horizon. And if the police show up we will give them so much money that they can retire from their shitty, violent jobs and live the greatest life they've ever lived. And we will be high and the love generator will be turned up to its maximum. And we'll get higher when, at last, the sun comes up in the morning and we will collapse under the weight of the ancient earth. And it will be inside me and it will be inside you. And it will be the end of the world and the beginning of a new love