Slow down came guts out blowing like a saxophone
Chopped his bowl of our turn again
Super lady
Heads turned down
Drooling ba*tards
In case they're never found
Radio apeshot
A fool caught down
Pretend it's stone groovy, groovy
nothing like a tin crown
??? heat
God, it's nothing but a cap gun
Wipe those moody ghosts away
?? protection
He's the mob squad
His mind is filled with decay
But his hands are stone gray
Can't see anything better
The colds always get in the way
Find our communicé severed
Over and over again
Radio apeshot
A fool caught down
Pretend it's stone groovy, groovy
nothing like a tin crown