Текст пісні
Welcome to hell, he says as the balls echo in the felt
A drop from the Grateful Dead
Sixty million cells and I'm here with this melt
Let's take a trip to his head
Descended from a criminal dynasty, or so he says
Lost in a binary but keeps mum when he prays
Singing the pitiful hymns of a public school dog
This duke needs providing God
Octaves of G in a minor key, but this is 9 to B
Taking liberties with my liberty
It's all the style, not the substance that lives in people like me
The brilliance, not the militance
The secular place is roughnecked by the billions
And the demons will have their mercy
This is where angels go when they fall
Where the crows claw and the wolf right makes the only laws
This is where the flesh falls off the bone
And the truth is hidden in everyone's shit
Like plastic wraps when mules take to the phone
His power wanes and he needs some cunt to blame
It's not the Chianti or the cocaine
It's not the thinness of skin or the thickness of veins
It's the need to gain profit that's rotten
His face twitching like some gargoyle of the ill-gotten
Wanna be king of the wing
His heart's fragile and it lingers, pointing fingers like words
Poison in the air like crack smoke on the stairs
Fiending for his lordship
Still living off what came before him
In judgement of places he's never had to go
For the love of quick and easy dough