The chosen ones
With the punctured lungs
And all the rest
With deflating breasts
After long and dull debate
Decided that it would be best
To scatter ounces for the feast
And hope these ailments would cease
Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...
Lucy and her next of kin
Sacrificed the Hoopty Twins
To the god of halibut and fins
But when the stench took to the winds
The styes marched onward singing hymns
That sounded more like battle cries
Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...
The Shock Board of Glamour-
They struck the truth down with their hammers
Till skies turned green
Organ donors please beware
That the goings-on going on here
Are triple threat to the fancy fare
Who live each day with the lasting fear
That one day when they're dying they will realize that they've missed it all
Hey, pulling yarns from the stockings of the sky...