(bong gurgling, bong toking gasp)
A strange lie
(?)
(?)
We'll
(?) some
And walking through fields
So that quiet frustration
While we
(?) with dishrags
And we'll be just fine
And I crawl through the dark
Without hestitaion
For a place where in
(?)
Will pick out my eyes
And I got to that place
And will release my face
With their own eyes
Whistling cowboys
(?) like weasels
They ride in on horses
They blow on my balls
And I tried to listen
But I was just leaving
They tanked out my entrails
And spat on the wall
Well, the trains
(?)
(?) to believe in
I found myself naked
A sudden entrall
I roll on my side
And I nimbly ride
So I ride
A messenger came with the news
(?) the belly
Of 25 pimps
Collapsed on the lawn
And strangely enough
The illicit vibrations
Encoded with light rays
And walked through the dawn
And I asked them to tell me
Without meditation
They led me through hillsides
Where all life was gone
When I got the place
I fell on my face
Because they lied.
(bong related coughing)
Writer(s): Jeffrey Scott Coffey, Paul Leary Walthall, Gibson Jerome Haynes, Jeffrey David Pinkus
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