Hail Mary Mallon - King Cone lyrics

In a Pinto, nose on the window
We don't really know which way the wind blow
At the state fair won a stuffed reindeer
We don't really know why we came here
At the drive in checking if his fly zipped
We don't really know what 'get a life' is
At the trade show looking at the lame-os
We don't really know we're in the same boat

I dip dive, skinned alive, and pinned open
Split wide petting zoo a piggy trichinosis
Tricky-tricky scattering over divine terror
Pride of the dilemma, eye of the chimera
Wide world slam dance to the gambit, bam bam
Hands of a bandit, temperament of Ram Man
Disillusion with you and your
Man's man's manse
Behind doors your porridge and Tim Tam slams
I was in a scramble
Posturing alongside boogeymen
Green teeth chewing on his hoodie strings
Maybe wound tighter than I should
Have been - probably
A mannerism born of Christmas shopping
At the Dollar Tree
Act important get sorted behind a Jollibee
Promised land blue collars hopping
On piranha plants
Whether blood from a stone or
Tapenade from an olive branch
Hail Mary Mallon do the monster mash!

In a Pinto, nose on the window
We don't really know which way the wind blow
At the state fair won a stuffed reindeer
We don't really know why we came here
At the drive in checking if his fly zipped
We don't really know what 'get a life' is
At the trade show looking at the lame-os
We don't really know we're in the same boat

I dive dip, hide bank slips in my own pillow
Do wild shit like crank Styx
From an orange pinto
Two live clicks north of the only chance
To get a day's worth of
Supper and peyote plant
Slowly open cans of the tribal mix
From the Hollywood shuffle to the viral vid
Going spiral ham on a transit cop
And turn his piglets in the
Plymouth into planet rock
Burn his image and then singe
Him to the canyon walls
Limb from limb him while the
Women rip his Danskins off
Get the digit's and the tickets
To the army ball and
All of this is why we're
Listening to Mardi Gras
Cause Izod, bitch, you know alligator
And brought the whole fucking swamp
To the Mallon kegger
And we drowning later, in a well with models
But if not, plan B is we yelpin' brothels

In a Pinto, nose on the window
We don't really know which way the wind blow
At the state fair won a stuffed reindeer
We don't really know why we came here
At the drive in checking if his fly zipped
We don't really know what 'get a life' is
At the trade show looking at the lame-os
We don't really know we're in the same boat

Wick wack jobs, swift slapshot
Swing and a miss
It's brick slippers in a sinking abyss
Drink it in
Half-apes get money in a mass grave
As Bobby illustrates on the
Following splash page
Hibernating with an iron maiden
In the USA label naval island waving
To the rescue planes, pocket flare for drama
With a volleyball bestie and a Fendi wallet
Yo, whole milk, honeycombs, bloody eyes
Runny nose maybe guilty of collusion with
A couple cuddy folk money or a gummy bear
Succumbing to a puppeteer
Penny for your lost cool
(up in here) up in here
Cover ears, cussing here
Tamper with the buccaneers
Mary's in the mirror near the
Towels where the nun appears
Aes, more rude than troop sorties
And more feud than a room with the two Coreys

I dip dive, I dip dive
I dive dip, I dive dip dip, dive, dip, dive
Hail Mary Mallon

Dive dip, dive dip
Dip dive, dip dip dip dive
Dip dive dip dip dive dip dive
Dip dive dip dive dip dip dip dive
Dip dip dive, dip dip dive, dive dip