Cutters of the pie
Throw your summers in the sky
Collar-pop Jolly Roger die
Motherfucker die

Apache on a ship shape in Bristol fashion
Snuck a jammy through the red tape and tiptoed past him

Worm teeth grinding feverishly below
As little organic hacksaws
Eager to feed and grow
So when it's Blackhawk
Over the glass walk
They surface up through the cash crops
With clippers for your belly up mascots
And never dine alone

Meanwhile back at sea level
It was home by home
Zone for zone
Bloom County’s homeless riot for home ownership
I hope you put gas in the motor home
And know the roads

I studied with the finest combs stuck under my thumb
As opposed to the loaded nose
Who pray Armageddon is numb
And that's unevenly rendered
To those who grew up thinking faith was a surrender of reason
But not a reason to surrender (Not a reason to surrender) (Uh)
Catch the Liberty Fire's catalog
Forty torched orchids and citronella for Algernon
Don and Vagabond alike repent
This shit should have been Beta burns Babylon
The end