I was born under water, I dried out in the sun
I started humpin' volcanoes baby, when I was to young
Started surfing the madhouse, and I decided to stay
I got an itch in my cosmic pocket and it won't go away
Instead of draggin' the swamp for your lost love
Come to me, I'm your living crop circle
Like a lamb to the slaughter, lika a peach in the sun
Curl up in my flame pit baby, until you're way over done
I came up from the ground, I came down from the sky
And I'm grabbing her knees like a worm with a mission
'Cause I'm made out of salt and I'm made out of coal
And I live like a king in a showmercial
Instead of letting the man make you a monkey
Fry your head in the living crop circle - yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I'm your living crop circle
Writer(s): David Wyndorf
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