Pull the car over youre frightening the kids.
What did you promise us about grinning in the rear view without your fake teeth
in.
Keep your glass eye glued on the end of the highway up ahead of us.
The collision is always licking its lips.
You werent
supposed to open the door.
Just keep the plan from drifting of course.
Well attend to the terrified first class convinced theres a
hoof print on the bow.
All hail the wounded heart contingents
Whove given us something more than faultlessness to sing
about.
Long live the prosthetic live wires.
The faulty mechanism of hope has disintegrated.
Your captain nailed his feet to
someone elses ship at the sight of me.
Do what your mother tells you and put down the sheriffs horse.
The choir on the black box
rejoiced splendidly, singing hallelujah the king is dead.
The king is dead.