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A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z Bent Ive been down this corridor - Before you enter you have to bring Back the creator of winter damn, Too late Im spoiled, I need the napalm I got it, I shot it in my left sector, Blew up the timing device on the reactor. Time shifted I had to remold the floor The foundation for creation - mates blend The pleasure dome into another roam - A walk stalked nightly by the ogre Thats rarely sober. but theres no tracin I see the place in the flow. Im beyond dawn, No Im not in the lawn under pawns - Dont rest, never possessed stagnate magnets. I never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes - Balls through eyesockets. Im currently current Currents of electricity; they cant get wit me Invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo. A nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows, Never spin hos on merry-go-rounds, Be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish, Victims on a hit list me like geronimo on a pratt - Tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor. No false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light Switches so you can see the real, I feel the tension My sight twitches - Im bent. Second scene: Im the star in a step show Around corners, the coroners office; Where my rep grows. Im on some sort of drug Like the president, its evident that Im noid, A little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper. Im lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas, The gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport Its a sport for me to take another life on landing, Branding wit a prattle prod designed by god. Its my job to resign frauds, The odd is against you got a degree in me, So I know that I flow, credentials are essential - Its blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me. I dont feel the vibe, abstract art the veal Doesnt heal this deprived stomach from a plummet. Swinging on a duet with the bullet. I never pull out for suspense - Im on a bent mission. Jack cousteau couldnt take it no deeper - Im a resident in davey jones micro-locker Holds the phone, foamin at the mouth: Mad dog, a taste, never had hog Im droppin The scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it. I seen it beneath where the cowards hope Trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost Treasure through measures in bars - Im bent. |
Copyright © Bonny 2003-2005 | |
