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