Well, i’ve spoke the name of the lord in vain
In gunpowder and flame
And I’ve vomited slang in porcelain
And then claimed it was champagne
And I can rhyme silk with cigarettes
I can rhyme Jack Daniels with triumph
But no sentence I could spit could’ve shifted events
In the back of that plymouth reliant
And philosophy
Is calculated to be worth its weight in air
But the way you told me to fuck myself
Well, the words had a certain flair
I hope he fits the tux
I am just a man in flux
Let me clarify things with the way I strut
So I can shout with my mouth shut
My murder, my love
What were the cookies made of?
My murder, my sweet
What kind of pills did we eat?
The machinery of lamps in the sky tonight
Unfurl above electric lies of light
C’mon grip me tight against the wall
Where the cusswords, piss, and masterpiece fight
I’m alive (through the power of explosion:
Colt 45 and a busted trojan)
Motion is evidence of belief
Especially with the world’s most beautiful slogan
Applause from the mannequins should be ignored
Look for the harmony of pen and sword
Statues of our heroes turn to dust
We sing
To snort the dust up off the floor
I hope he fits the tux
Even mountains are in flux
Let us clarify things with the way we strut
So we can shout with our mouths shut