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We're the boys jailed in a horse's skull.
Nailed our ears to a feral glittery drone.
The only things that make our blood feel like blood
Are stealing cars and watching lightning bolts fuck.
So don't look away, every day's the same,
Every song's the same in this sanitized exploding airplane.
I got shot in the face it's all on videotape.
So c'mon, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free.
We're the girls chewing styrofoam, pulling out wigs under a monochrome glow.
The only line that's talking is into bed
Is the freeway's static hiss drilling holes in our heads.
Don't look away form the clouds leaking rust.
The kingdom of heaven reeks of burning witches and dust.
I got shot in the face it's all on videotape.
So c'mon, watch the blood, it's pouring commercial-free.
Seven items dripped out the back in my head:
One big war and one color red;
One vulgar leg and one designer tree;
Two stallions and a pound of confetti.
Oh, salvation!
Hollow lightning, so skeletal...
Shipwrecked freeways!
Concrete ribcage, so boring...
We ride skeletal lightning, vacant as a womb that's miscarried.
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