Sounds as if you need a hand,
Walking through the field of it, living sorts,
I hope you understand now
How you're not the one to make a sense of it all,
I'm a tourist guide, walk along and take my hand.
Welcome to the make up of new paths,
Fast fix 'em, direct another face value
We want it to fruition
By way of competition to win,
in a perspective that's there.
Come along, take my hand and
Place your thoughts on these feats
To end an overcame dead win.
Politic for policy, make my folly raleigh
And you got near your truth, flow loss from damage
Over your ? adult sharks you playin cards wit', wit'.
For frickle prick soldiers looking for spirit,
In light give me tips, over there, there.
Turning tip, sipping tip, you trip,
Try the music for hits,
The broad bades for new politics, holding fire for lobbyists.
You a rude wig, stimpy, stupid dog
Go ahead, take my hand and detach us from the wrist,
Now you're holding it, amused with fun,
More than a parlor trick, that
Mannequin limb has real flesh to creep out those who will chit-chat
For years to come about what we have showed them,
Going to be showing there.
Most of the trapeze on tour would flip, no match.
Search for a gruesome voice that we use to calm you,
As we flip up the tent top
Psycho semantics, accurate, this man is no flop,
Six pane asylum, junkie juggling land with tigers,
Contortionisties with them pasties remind you of spiders,
Adam and Eve apples on sticks, dip in the caramel,
Carousel carney, intoxicated, operating the scale.
Marmalade, all adornament life like,
Swam did it already, and I'm Mike, the ace Mike.
Give up a secret or two, about the cannonball man,
Never know hula, who do? Only a loser in tran,
Dressed in the black light, gallop and gooms,
The class surround all of each other, platoon, I think you need room,
Perhaps a moment to soak in what you have seen,
Go ahead, let go of my hand, that was no dream.
You wanna see a trick?
Pick a death card, any death card, bet
No kevlar vest, no red heart left
Sound mine, bound by tides unholy
Harvester of souls on line one, holding
Can't talk molting, ramparts high
Though his high seems low when the nam draw nigh.
Deemed unkind by his one time own,
Now a green blood line do time in a hole,
Crying alive, sign is amiss,
Grime in the tiles, cried little sticks,
Simon advised, I'm in a bind
Hat low, back bones stringent
Aggro, drums like a black hole binging
Launch the cat, post dinner in a ditch,
I sniff through Vicks' like Mr. Roo's pigs
Stack skulls like igloo bricks, neck beard, loose lips,
Hanging loose dude, if the noose fits
Ears back, flat
Chattery pulp cavities, ha!
Now to smattering adult faculties,
Cooked in a cold opacity, mashers,
You don't wanna be who the passion and badger
Elaborately,
Come splash in the hazards,
Dibs on the flask and the dagger after,
And I'll probably settle former, but I'm itching for the latter,
Got initials that he etching in his anchor,
Thank ya.

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