Lyrics:
a worse time than the last moment, own it
We all know you don't know shit (no shit!)
Me and Mike will straight write your obit
And the obit goes like
in the corn maze
Or swamped in a court case, the obit's with your face
Before your boss can say he's got another son
Before your back receives so many
raising the yoke
I’ll write the obit
And you can weep
The world as we know it
Died in its sleep
You’ve seen a future
Where less is more
Sense of adventure
down to your knees
But you be hella fond of it
Writing sonnets on the consequences
Coming up on 'em
I'm a poet
Cross stitching alphabets, your obit's
What we don't read in the obit
Must have been an omit
In my eyes
On my hands and my knees
Admitting my own self-defeat
On sidewalks
Lay our thoughts
Lights out with these cemetery dreams
Hearing screams
Shrieks; can't speak, yea
Lonely poet, reading obits
Knows he's roaming in this brimstone
comme suppresseur
J'veux v'la les streams sur ''Successeur''
Le V, S14 gros sont les successeurs
J'renvoie toute ces putes au lobi
Obit, j'le manie comme
obit
"Hope he's happy where he's headed"
It's a white rabbit, stranded satellite
It's a parlor trick, stranded satellite
I'm so full of shit,
Obit's
Say he was a good man, you can't argue with that
Not today you can't, not now you can't.
In the media tent where they spin and they slant,
They
bid yeah he played the game
But it ended all the same, they never paid him for it
But he couldn't do shit but read the obit's
Till the "son-of-a-bitch"
off my wits
Open the paper and read the obits
If I'm not there I know I'm not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed
How do I know my
for a fairly decent afterlife
The werewolf is coming
The fact is most obits are mixed reviews
Life is a lottery, a lotta people lose
Blah, blah, blah I don't wanna hear shit
Medicals and miracles and all the obits
We stay all day and leave all night
Tell it like it is because we know
for me
'Cause you is not all of that with your fucked up haircut)
I had a pet lizard, he never got an obit
Fed him crickets, it was dead a fucking
obits
Steve and David smiled and they left quite soon
He wonders about that dream
As he looks at the stars and the moon
Sometimes he has a party for him
I only read the sports and the obits
No shit, I've been playing all my life
Got twenty three knives, color me dead or alive
Read my rights
lonely secrets hidden from your view.
Now we obit a different sun, for eternity ,doomed to tell no one..
Now we're lost you can't desguise, the river
spare my sweet aplenty mississippi
crash my rash no-hit obit in it smit me pretty drippy with yr amniotic peril feral city til I'm free
she the baby in
Mama reads the obits from the city I live
Just to see if I finally got some press
I got no friends and a busted ride
I wasted all my good wishes
a pop eyed big beaked pasty freak
Coldly dishing out obit bits
The scales of that frigid fish with teeth
Flashing briefly
There was audacity then
Some
and I would say I have her eyes
I can still smell the perfume of the woman down the block
My mom searches the obits we wonder where you are
Wonder if
Orphans
Fact check that obit in the morning
There could never be a stand in
Deluxe jaw line on grand canyon
Look just like the crimson chin its uncanny
Was
and protected not compromising
All we do is put a smile on every lady face
Wake up in the morning, as we kissing
I'm passing you your obit gum, I just opened
I was losing my focus
Sniffing a lot of that Michelin Man
And now into stacking those obits
I kept on having those fits of pen
Jaye turned em into
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