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King Cone (Instrumental Version)

In a Pinto, nose on the window

We don't really know which way the wind blow

At the state fair won a stuffed reindeer

We don't really know why we came here

At the drive in checking if his fly zipped

We don't really know what 'get a life' is

At the trade show looking at the lame-os

We don't know we're in the same boatI dip dive skinned alive

Pinned open

Split wide petting zoo a piggy trichinosis

Tricky-tricky scattering over divine terror

Pride of the dilemma Eye of the chimera

Wide world slam dance to the gambit, bam bam

Hands of abandon

Temperament of ram man

Disillusion with you and your man's mans mans

Behind doors your porridge and Tim Tam slams

I was in a scramble posturing along side bogeymen

Green teeth chewing on his hoodie strings

Maybe wound tighterthan I should have been - probably

A mannerism born of Christmas Shopping at the Dollar Tree

Act important get sorted behind a jolly beat

Promised land blue collars hopping on piranha plants

Whether blood from a stone or tapenade from an olive branch

Hail Mary mallon do the monster mash!

In a Pinto, nose on the window

We don't really know which way the wind blow

At the state fair won a stuffed reindeer

We don't really know why we came here

At the drive in checking if his fly zipped

We don't really know what 'get a life' is

At the trade show looking at the lame-os

We don't know we're in the same boatI dive dip, hide bank slips in my own pillow

Do wild shit like crank sticks from an orange pinto

Two live clicks north of the only chance

To get a day's worth of supper and peyote plant

Slowly open cans of the tribal mix

From the Hollywood shuffle to the viral vid

Going spiral ham on a transit cop

And turn his piglets in the Plymouth into planet rock

Burn his image and then singe him to the canyon walls

Limb from limb him while the women rip his Danskins off

Get the digits and the tickets to the army ball and

All of this is why we're listening to Mardi Gras

Cause I zy, bitch, you know alligator

And brought the whole fucking swamp to the Mallon kegger

And we drowning later, in a well with models

But if not, Plan B is we yelp in brothels

Wick wack jobs with slapshot; swing and a miss

It's brick slippers in a sinking abyss

Half-ape spit money in a mass grave

As Bobby illustrates on the following splash pageHibernating with an iron maiden

In the USA label naval island waving

To the rescue planes, pocket flare for drama

With a volleyball bestie and a fendi walletWhole milk, honeycombs, bloody eyes, runny nose

Maybe guilty of collusion with a couple cutty folk

Money or a gummy bear, succumbing to a puppeteer

Penny for your lost cool (up in here) up in hereCover ears, cussing here, tamper with the buccaneers

Mary's in the mirror near the towels where the nun appears

Aes, more rude than troop sorties

And more feud than a room with the two CoreysI dip dive, I dip dive

I dive dip, I dive dip

Dip, dive, dip, dive

Hail Mary Mallon

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