Tobin Sprout Smokey Joe's Perfect Hair
Don't apologize for perfect lies
Black turns yellow
Green turns green
Perfect lies
Smokey joe seems to jester to
Wounds that fester
Diseased molester
The part you play
Has given way
I've stared at that cell myself
In this world
Don't go jeopradize
Life is fleeting by
You poor lost fellow
Drink your mellow
Perfect lie
Smokey joe shrugs & staggers
Through days that gather
No moss, no matter
The poison ring of wicked things
Is wrapping around your throat
Iin this world
