Maybe it's the way the wind gusts
A fairytale covered in rust
Disgusted by everything discussed
A boiling hot pot of mistrust
A bridge with a troll beneath, impersonating God
A reflex caught within my essence, louder than applause
Ballet of bitch twirling north to south on my spirit
Adding weight I've never felt
Choking on a seatbelt
A refined and classic kick in the ass
It's the warlord's kiss kiss on the forehead
Busy brained liar with an eighth and a rewire
A sip from the deep fryer
Mastеr justifier can't find the way home
Rathеr be floating along the river through the fog
Listen to the late night sound of the frogs
No monologue, shut the fuck up
Filled to the top, with pressure in my cup
So much earth to find, not much room to dig
Dig faster than an oil rig, dash so quick from the inner pig
The city shrieks loud with an ear splitting call
I'm on a wooden peg leg and I sunk the eight ball
It's the warlord's kiss kiss on the forehead
Busy brained liar with an eighth and a rewire
A sip from the deep fryer
Master justifier can't find the way home
It's the warlord's kiss kiss on the forehead
Busy brained liar with an eighth and a rewire
A sip from the deep fryer
Master justifier can't find the way home
The party and the people getting older
Motherland getting colder
100 pounds on my right shoulder
Ugly in the eye of the beholder
It's the warlord's kiss on the forehead