I wanna sit and listen to an hour of tape hiss
With you, and get fucked up off of dog piss
And do, the thing they didn't want you to do
I wanna write a theory on the modern existence,
Of you, and break the bones that haven't been fixed yet,
And do, the things they didn't want you to do
I wanna cut, the skin right off of your lips and,
I'll sell the color as a new type of lipstick, and glue
My nervous system to you
Yeah and all my other organs to you
Big hole, in the sky
In the middle of everyone's good night
Big heart, big flowers
Wet pollen in your eyes for hours