Frames

"Tube of darkness

Stop in time

A deafening screech

Stop in time

Spit potato

Wash it down with wine

Absurdist narratives

Cryptic vignettes

Nailing chairs to the ground; it's pathetic

Never more than three feet from a snitch here

I understand your quibble

But you have served your purpose

Put arrows in my quiver

So go and serve your master

I cannot stand her dribble

She's crawling back to grovel

"This soil's mine" so's the bible,

and the Quran and tora

Tube of darkness

Stop in time

A deafening screech

Stop in time

Spit potato

Wash it down with wine

Absurdist narratives

Cryptic vignettes

Nailing chairs to the ground; it's pathetic

Never more than three feet from a snitch here

I understand your quibble

But you have served your purpose

Put arrows in my quiver

So go and serve your master

I cannot stand her dribble

She's crawling back to grovel

"This soil's mine" so's the bible,

and the Quran and tora

You gave your day

We leaked your frames

Shift the blame, I roll my eyes in shame

His lungs don't work alone. Three inches, lone birthdays on the growth hormone

Mother candle burn, no friends for the lickle bone

Yeah Birthday candle burn

Internal pressure for the bone

And I broke my hand for a bet that's grown like

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn

Mother candle burn!

I understand your quibble

But you have served your purpose

Put arrows in my quiver

So go and serve your master

I cannot stand her dribble

She's crawling back to grovel

"This soil's mine" so's the bible,

and the Quran and tora"