1. |
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We open our diary just to find pages filled with no words to be called our own,
Stolen from bathroom stalls in shopping malls,
where dead poets live.
Beeline to position,
Where curtains fall and lights surely glisten,
No sense of direction,
In crystallized form,
Shatter eight fold
You, deceiver from the same block.
Mug, the artist without a single thought.
Fall down.
All of the words are the same in this shameless party of monotony,
Where the voice fuels the flame for demand of the same old game,
In time they wither away,
The voice of a youth in decay,
Forgotten by the sands of time,
but remembered by a few on the john.
You, deceiver from the same block.
Mug, the artist without a single thought.
Fall down.
(If you want a piece of me, you'll have to use both hands)
|
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2. |
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3. |
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4. |
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Pineapples don't go on pizza,
What's a matter with you, you fool,
Pineapples don't go on pizza,
Maybe mom was right about you.
Although it's part of the bromelain family,
It's rounded contour will be nowhere near me,
The party's on,
The evil aura shouldn't be on the "za"
Pineapples are wrong
And Guoni will never agree with you
Although it's part of the bromelain family,
It's rounded contour will be nowhere near me,
|
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5. |
Pasta Song
02:32
|
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|
I want some pasta and I want it now,
Send that order to the kitchen and cook it 5 minutes ago,
Yum, that's good... BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH
Throw it away and do it all over again.
Feed me an endless body of tortellini and carbohydrates,
I want you to extend my stomach,
I feel tortured when I see pasta I cannot eat,
All I want is some pasta with some fucking meat
Feast
Papparadelle, Fettuccine, Orecchiette, good.
Linguine, tortellini, Fussili, yum.
Tagliatelle and Farfalle are okay, but not as good as Lasagna
If you can cook it at 212 degrees, it will taste good.
Feed me an endless body of tortellini and carbohydrates,
I want you to extend my stomach,
I feel tortured when I see pasta I cannot eat,
All I want is some pasta with some fucking meat
(Eat Pasta)
(Eat Pasta)
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6. |
Spitting Sin
03:25
|
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7. |
||||
|
Swing a baseball ball bat,
At a brand new vace,
Spray your friend with,
A giant can of mace,
Punt a small child,
At least a mile high,
Start a fight,
Make somebody cry.
Don't be an ass hole.
But if you are:
Don't commit half way.
Ruin everybodies day.
I was just clowning,
But won't be rebounding,
From that vicious pounding,
Respect your surroundings.
Poke some holes in,
Somebodies logic,
Buy some condoms from a ghost.
Sell snake oil,
To a drug dealer,
Kick a dolphin,
In the balls.
Embrace the demon you are,
Maybe grow a handlebar moustache.
Don't be an ass hole
But if you are:
Don't commit halfway
Ruin Everybodies day
I was just clowning,
But won't be rebounding,
From that vicious pounding,
Respect your surroundings
|
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Broken Jaw Dance Party Springfield Township, New Jersey
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