Lyrics
I been pourin' soda pop on the compost for the natives
Sleepin' on the cup for the awaitin'
I've been havin' not so baddy nightmare
But how I'm bloody murdered in my daydream
It's a private midnight
In the middle of an afternoon
There's no meetin' sayin' Jesus name in vain
He was only doin' what he had to do
When I was in the garden, I was mad in him too
I started out of butterfly detected
I became a teenage alcoholic
Now I'm tryin' to get to heaven, I'm just tryin' to get to heaven
I'm just tryin' to get to heaven or whatever you'd call it
I don't wanna make death rock anymore
I wanna go where my alarm clock won't dare to come find me
I'll leave my roommate to the groove and explore
Where the asphalt still smears, with a dear of the night meet
Where the sun don't set, it rises twice
Happy hours are subject to market price
And the present just doesn't see merely so on timely
Barely forward while like merely right behind me
It's a private to clime
It's a infinite slime
When an angel gains its associate wins
And moves back in the gal
There is no room for new proposals
Go on and the day is longer the wise
These are instructions for disposal
Of my own miniature private mankind
These are instructions for disposal
Of my dick as compared to my mind
Of my dick as compared to my mind
My dick as compared to my mind
It's just a joke played, joke played
Joke played on the future of men
Bluebirds out of time