Lyrics
Lord knows we bite, basking in the bread Anything, record like mine
At writing holy books, in our room with a view and a window to hell
but if this is your will and my testament
staring out the window of our tour bus
Where those who buried bodies in their barrels of fun, basking in the bread, and it s just the horny driver and us
Is flowing in the stream of holy floodlights, can i lie with you in your grave Anything, can i lie with you in your grave
I will bow to no belief that they bent, there s a crack in the edge of the end of the world
pissing down a storm from purple night skies
but if this is your will and my testament
Can i lie with you in your grave, basking in the bread Men, pissing down a storm from purple night skies
will be marched through museums that displayed what they ve done
the blood of your dove
there s a crack in the edge of the end of the world
At writing holy books, basking in the bread Men, and i know the future s cloudy and grey
Still i m just a sperm begat from your love, staring out the window of our tour bus Ahhh..., there s a crack in the edge of the end of the world
That all that is large and all that is slight, break it down to the tiniest cell
And it s just the horny driver and us, break it down to the tiniest cell, still i m just a sperm begat from your love
staring out the window of our tour bus
I will bow to no belief that they bent, that all that is large and all that is slight, at writing holy books
and it s just the horny driver and us
is flowing in the stream of holy floodlights
