Hail Mary Mallon - Used Cars lyrics
[Hail Mary Mallon - Used Cars lyrics]
Used coats, usurped thrones
FUBAR crews out New York homes
Students of a cruel world mutate room noise
Illustrate Man as a food shaped chew toy
Dwarf mode, shoes don't fit
Wire cut grumpy, honey moon clothespin
Fire bug, tummy bloody, blue nosed pit
I got ninety-nine problems, twenty-two is
(Oh shit)
Yo I never don't trip, codenamed (Oh shit)
Cold brains in his bowl
Got the game show rigged oh sugar
The butcher and his readily unsettling
Fury are impervious to conventional weaponry
Undead Kennedy as heathen's hammer
Stakes through the heart of
The teens and campers
Who came for the trees and the cheesy banter
And they pray to the cross
In between your antlers
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Used cars, glue loose parts
Snake eyes take high noon too far
Agent of darkness, arm of a banned surgeon
Cellophane miracle, fish in his hand burning
Sport coats with dough in both chins
Rose colored hand on a lamb with Logan
Heavy metal trench on the bench
Of his home gym
With some green tea leaves and leaning like
(Oh shit)
Coyotes in the crows nest, homie (Oh shit)
Toast petrified rowers on a
Bloated ghost ship going rogue
In robes that double as mobile homes
Wax in his stash and puzzling coat of arms
A Bonaparte overcompensating
When you're not saying nothing
Like an Amish station
Tell God I said hi and to drop some Amens
For the nicest MCs at the tapas tasting
Oh oh Shit oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh oh oh Shit
Used names, chew through chains
Reptiles, crock pots, new Kool-Aids
Uncool, but sooner haul his
Mission to the furnace
Than casually evolve into the
Visage of a serpent
Left home and acquired a slow twitch
From working all night by the
Light of an old fridge
Might be the lone kid that
Sold you the toll bridge
For three grand flat, how's that for an
(Oh shit)
Mary Mallon get dough shit, smoking (Oh shit)
Where the No King keepers
Individually Go Fish
House in a tree trunk, steampunk goggles
Pink hearts, yellow moons, green junk
Waffles
Steal out the box, leaving the store open
Begging for forgiveness and needing
A small role in
Competing with all omens for a nifty prize
Of a "Number 1" ribbon and a "Kick Me" sign
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh Shit oh oh oh Shit
FUBAR crews out New York homes
Students of a cruel world mutate room noise
Illustrate Man as a food shaped chew toy
Dwarf mode, shoes don't fit
Wire cut grumpy, honey moon clothespin
Fire bug, tummy bloody, blue nosed pit
I got ninety-nine problems, twenty-two is
(Oh shit)
Yo I never don't trip, codenamed (Oh shit)
Cold brains in his bowl
Got the game show rigged oh sugar
The butcher and his readily unsettling
Fury are impervious to conventional weaponry
Undead Kennedy as heathen's hammer
Stakes through the heart of
The teens and campers
Who came for the trees and the cheesy banter
And they pray to the cross
In between your antlers
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Used cars, glue loose parts
Snake eyes take high noon too far
Agent of darkness, arm of a banned surgeon
Cellophane miracle, fish in his hand burning
Sport coats with dough in both chins
Rose colored hand on a lamb with Logan
Heavy metal trench on the bench
Of his home gym
With some green tea leaves and leaning like
(Oh shit)
Coyotes in the crows nest, homie (Oh shit)
Toast petrified rowers on a
Bloated ghost ship going rogue
In robes that double as mobile homes
Wax in his stash and puzzling coat of arms
A Bonaparte overcompensating
When you're not saying nothing
Like an Amish station
Tell God I said hi and to drop some Amens
For the nicest MCs at the tapas tasting
Oh oh Shit oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh oh oh Shit
Used names, chew through chains
Reptiles, crock pots, new Kool-Aids
Uncool, but sooner haul his
Mission to the furnace
Than casually evolve into the
Visage of a serpent
Left home and acquired a slow twitch
From working all night by the
Light of an old fridge
Might be the lone kid that
Sold you the toll bridge
For three grand flat, how's that for an
(Oh shit)
Mary Mallon get dough shit, smoking (Oh shit)
Where the No King keepers
Individually Go Fish
House in a tree trunk, steampunk goggles
Pink hearts, yellow moons, green junk
Waffles
Steal out the box, leaving the store open
Begging for forgiveness and needing
A small role in
Competing with all omens for a nifty prize
Of a "Number 1" ribbon and a "Kick Me" sign
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh Shit oh oh Shit
Oh oh oh Shit oh oh oh Shit