I Leave You, Home, When I'm Ripped

What's Missing Is The Eyeballs In Each Of Us, But It Doesn't Matter Because You've Got The Bucks, The Bucks, The Bucks.

Earth, Earthriding Your Merry-go-roundtoward Extinction,right To The Rootsthickening The Oceans Like Gravy,festering In Your Caves,you Are Becoming A Latrine.

Well, One Gets Out Of Bed And The Planets Don't Always Hiss Or Muck Up The Day, Each Day.

Stop The Darkness And Its Amputations And Find The Real Mccoy In The Private Holiness Of My Hands.

In An Old Time There Was A King As Wise As A Dictionary.