Basquiat in flaming to a mood beat
The peace is so unfastened that it d**hens to the humans
I do not believe in any words that says your race is what these people hardly like
Enough to burn you on a cross-wood
Make-believe the manger to the haggard heights
Of mangled taxidermied crows
The golden chains of whatever you're doing
I was at the desert by my lift alone
Discussing with a vulture
When a hawk had led me to a bed of feathers
Balancing the bless you want with eldest dirt
Has hardened all my veins
That I had tethered to the stomach of our dream-world
You in in effect THE MASS
And I am part the wing of what the Hell's a**igned
To whatever the bells are f**ing saying
Baby, you will have to be alone
While I am burning for the ma**es
And imploding in an android-less planet
I am not alone
And I will never be
So you can rest-a**ured I'm coming back on Jimmy Fallon with a vengeance
f** it
You never wanted me
f** it. Desert, Dirty, Dusty
Why the f** you asking why the flame remains the same rot?
The name is moodie d**h the main refrain from all the noise co*k
The rosary of pa**ive murder, earners of American dead and rot in a church at the steeple-drenched in a ma**ive black
You aren't afraid of me are you b**h?
With your moss-colored fairy dust carriage in all its f**ing glory
You are a medium f** ba*tard that's wanting to be hipster as the next d**h of ma**ive f**s...
(Inaudible)
You never wanted me
f** it. Desert, Dirty, Dusty...