Three Mile Pilot Sore Loser
Summer turned ahead of green
Simples came wicked for this head of lettuce -
Camouflage condom
Wig on his head belly o' greed -
Slick wax floors before the door at the bottom of the slide
Walls turn to a point - slipping on the glass eye
As the lid blinks over this crushed lens -
Like the day that the lid closed the sky above your head -
Bleeding all over the maid but she's made to be fast but it won't last
Like the day that the lid closed the sky above your head -
We all bleed the same - (he can't make the difference in days they all bleed into the same) -
He's here now he might as well stay he plays
The game well he's not a sore loser -
He says sore losers are out before they
Even get up to swing - but he can't even get up with that belly o' greed -
Belly like a whale - but he's gonna get it one way or another and if he can't find it...
What is it that we suffer - is it in your head - like
The day that the lid closed the sky above your head - he gets closer every time
