Mae Shi Boys In The Attic
Things left to be dreamt
Envision purpose that I never meant
Plans problicate dreams you'll never see
Whoo! (x4)
I feel them divide into fluids
To hold my open stare in place
Or maybe let it stew or set in this jar
Or on my neck or to collect
Dust in the attic
I'm feeling more depressed than I did the other day
Shell out the compliments man
Or spread them over the entire tiering cake
Or do me the favor of sparing me of my own private pyrite
pity party
Cause this bed pan produces only what smells of Mommy's
little rotting vegetable
Cage yourself in to make you feel at home
Your home is where your head is, k?
