Thought Industry Horsepowered Lyrics
Halcyon p____ absinthe loaded. Popes moselle in
Christ, slurping dead Jim's fat a__ wife with shamrocks
and driftwood. I'm an articulate man, but the chanty
says to f___. Scrape.
Sterilized aqua r_____. Chumly the Walrus.
Adventures bloop gumption's "if"? Catholics crust l___
my stomach, Jim's dumb tame moray. How many
times, Timmy? How many times, Jenny? Let's rinse
and rinse. Scrape.
Cheap man's lumbering hulk city bus will swoop me
off at nine. 'tards with lunch pails. b__s hacking snot.
Some fruit sniffing shampoo. A drunk bus driver. Kill
that bus driver. Kill the f___ing bus driver. Scrape.
"Hey, here's part of my new book. A clever political
anthology. It's for the pretentious and cute. So I named
it 'America, will you please stick it in and ride?' Fly
dove. We fly."
Vacillate stance silver Zippo and cotton. My
varicolored weapons and wasps. I'm ok. I'm fine. Feel
swell. It's neat. Don't b__p me. Bang bang delicious.
Go bang bang delicious in the bathroom at Crossroads
mall. Scrape.
I'm a f___ing pop star. Non-threatening music.
Chipped meat hunk seen on Fox. Scrape. I'm a f___ing
pop star. Budweiser sponsored. I've made it. Put it
there, chum. Scrape.
"I bought a song. Some sort of Neil Sedaka sample.
Hey, pay attention to me. It's so d___ important. Well,
f___ ya'. So stick it in and ride." Fly Bush. We fly and
ride. Free Quayle we fly.
Angie's lonely and stinking drunk, with morals like
frozen p___. She'll stick it in and ride. Fly Rush, we'll
fly and ride. Free horse we ride.
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