Shut your fucking neck off, your fucking neck face
I'm a poor white trash can, Shut your fucking face off
I'm a poor white trash can sitting on a suburban lawn behind a sidewalk that stretches as far as I can see
I believe in God, mailboxes, and capitalism
But that's only cause if I didn't...I couldn't be
Read between 'em, color outside of 'em
I go beyond the lines you let define you right
No better table we got lots to draw
Cause it's a thin line between a thick line and no line at all (x2)
When God cries, Acrylic paint drips from his eyes
He puts a rainbow in the sky for you and I both to openly despise
I take in the last breath with the lips touchin'
And when its all over ill probably feel like I missed somethin'
The feel good music ain't as bad as the kiss was
And its nothin' to say I live under construction, obstructed, distracted,
Corrupted, directed abstracted. corrected conducted
And laughed at by nothin' but fascist robotic plastic psychotic toys in the attic
Crafted by bad actors turned narcotic addicts slash black magic addicts
Practicin' maskin' skin graphs with pins and needles to fool the feeble masses
So its no obstacle to rob the soul of its only assets
Pay heavens border patrol to control the traffic
The face the angels wear is cold but plastic
So with my foot on the gas the world's wishin' i crash
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