[Verse 1: Jam Baxter]
Yeah
Personal globular worlds
Licorice bridges link pickpocket the pearls that house paupers, Clutching at binoculars burning down borders
Bullet-ridden rocks in swirling brown waters
The harbingers of doom in a matchstick palace play marbles with their moons
Lose tight control to the master in the room
As their customised galaxies sparkle on a spoon
Safe in the gullet spinning orbs all in order, trowel-sized fireballs orbit in an aura
They all called it torture
The rat stole the sun with a nine-iron hitting a black hole in one
Like tee-off, four
Lost in the grand structure
Poor guy slit his wrists in the sand bunker
Strapped up to shuttles in a flat tundra
Trapped under luggage stacked skyward in this gas cluster
That hunger straddled the sky and left a tonne of rusty minute hands flapping goodbye
The planets collide, tied to the skull of any fool that can spew a gaseous cloud and bring a set of tools
A vat of [?], dead swimmers drifting
For sale signs nailed into eyeballs, sinking
All-hail the conqueror
Do the work instead of playing conkers with components of your universe
Yeah
Collect them all
Collect the balls
[Hook]
Chemical sweats
Skeletal legs
Ten steps from a desolate mess
Teeth carving rocks
Gardens growing flea-sized martian gods
Yeah, we sat fashioning a pea-sized laughing stock
Nevertheless
Venomous pests
Build stars from their featherless flesh
Stand back, let 'em shoot
Rip stitching in their pebble-dashed leather suit
Worm squirming in their residue
[Verse 2: Mowgli]
f** this verse