Looking at my hands stretched out
What's a preacher with a 45
Talking out the side where the neck meets the bow tie
Where the flesh connects between both eyes
They won't even sweat till we show them where the rope ties
You can get beat to death
Burnt out the middle like a cigarette
Watch the heat map form from the infrared
Got newspeak clinging to rest
Got new feet bringing old bones inside to get dressed
No time better than past to get pressed
No fight in them let the rest forget
Flood bringing mud but it stuck to porch steps
Her hand covered up with blisters
Itch in the throat need to pitch the liquor
Images birthed in
The skin infested
Crave the silence when the pump arrested
Mama said it was always muddy
And I better not track no shit
Mama said I was always funny
Mama said it was always muddy
And I better not track no shit
Mama said I was always funny
I feel like a scarecrow
I know they all hate me
No debate that I'm an asshole
Bodies in the castle
Hanging right below the ramparts
I feel like a surgeon
Now you spare parts
4 blank walls make them act corrected
4 inch tall need the aim perfected
Counting minutes when the year is rented
Countless visions of a body burned up
Organs churned up
Rivers longs gone
Swerve the pot hole but hit the pilon
Smell the fumes off the melted nylon
Fuck the pay stub
Office Saigon
Mama said it was always muddy
And I better not track no shit
Mama said I was always funny
Mama said it was always muddy
And I better not track no shit
Mama said I was always funny