take the ditzy chickies off their high horse
makem whisky tipsy all the white whores
even frisky gypsies mexican and black alike
are acting like you all are some acolytes
just trying to pass the night in spite of the fake words
sweet talking passes to the savage garden to flirt with mother nature
were falling thru the cracks of life grab the baggage on the asses right
egyptian religion has risen were revering endearing cats at night
laying naked next to perfection but inside im suited up
i love yous sweet nothings to secure the security im spooning up
and soon enough theyre bound to see thru the bluff
then its no longer soothing but were still ducking breakups
brush the beaver blush peter its fuck'n make up
with gonzo commentating cameramen critiquing the close up wrong
evidenced by uncomfortable imitated intimacy unless the clothes are on
self conscious theyre claiming that they lost the passion
but cant get rid of the pests burning pictures moth reaction
flowers for the dead inside and bickering clashes
love is rapid eye movement with the flickering lashes
so forget the pain with an ointment applicator to fit in the gashes
then back to tentatively picking flowers hoping the petals open
and wiping stains off the sleeeve where my purple medals broken