Under my head I am keeping the muse by Stomping on senses and corduroy blues 'Cause I never made all too much sense out of you You kick and you scream and you act so abused 'Cause I'm the holiest of all your parts I'm licking out your loneliness and starving all your crops Days I should maybe try taking it easy My red hands are throbbing and I'm feeling crazy 'Cause I never made all too much sense out of me Doting on thick shells and acting so ditzy 'Cause I'm the holiest of all your parts I'm licking out your loneliness And starving all your, licking all your Starving all your, licking all your Starving all your crops Crops Crops Crops