Me and Danny Smith are blasting off,
gagging @@#!, washing granny smith apples
off with a ragged cloth.

Gas the hog until
his $$# crashes the car, hit the dash, slam it in park,
his $$# is batter and mauled, back shatters and has to crawl

A haggard mom, with tract mark her arms, blasting water, while battling crack withdrawl.
Put her off like yard chores in the fall, dolled up the wallet and cop it like there's
hardly any taxes involved. Josh called and argued half of his logic is gone. His spinal column tore , his $$# took an arm to the jaw. Nanoparticals? can it !@$)got, your arms barred. I'm hard, garnishes

the art, hardly rational. Cards and candles, harvest the Chance, dismantle stars, and carve hearts into his hands, drastic examples.
Of madness. Cats to candles batter bad kittens, admitting dismissing
pacifism passive damages. Bad (*##$es, preventing itches saran wrapping it, or fapping

with his hand until dad asks where his brazzers went.
Mad a bit, sparking creation like Eve and Adam did, guarding the garden with a tarnished axe and a plastic stick. A plastic stick? A plastic stick. Don't ask of it or Chance will be charged with carving lard of your $$# with it. Word smith and a wand to practice magic with.
Casting darkness in apartments - witch craft and six six six.

He had to spit. Without it, he'd be letting live by, catching fish and taking %#@!s under the stetson bridge.

%#@! doesn't fit the description of what he is. So dissmiss the simpletons. A quick flip and a dip.

And I get it, no studio equipment, I'm sick as %#@!less weekends,
(*##$es skim but to lyrics they don't listen. But I can promise
you somethin, when I can fund it you'll love it

like filled lists and crisp bills for chistmas.