Cathedral lavish loathing,
Leaving the looker soaking,
Pipe smoking literature, valiant and thought provoking.
Constantly noble, constant noble, portrait of persona.
Methane your membrane and leave you rotten without a solder.
No trilogy, nor a sequel, not even one love.
Not even zero negative one, a crying dove.
A principality morals, maybe your standards might even make you a matter of fact, exempt from banters.
So much for being famous if you take that route, bro
Don't touch that seeing hand, this blind man, hold his hand, GO!
And then come back and tell the villagers hope,
Only to lead them to the slaughter container, perhaps a metal rope.
Force feed your ANXed body of Christ and Dolemite,
Tie up your horse before the night falls, console your wife,
Or your significant other, or just yourself,
Items have been viewed, why don't you purchase something upon our shelf?
You could be royalty
Let me see the shining ring
Behind those palace walls you're climbing out
And we'll build our empire,
And we'll build our empire,
And we'll build our empire,
We at the horse and chariot races blowing these rubies,
You have a corpse bride, pace around, throwing you cooties.
We do a barrel apparel, custom made cloth,
You a body that they found with a moth in the throat,
Lots of forensics to finally figure out how you were done in,
Meanwhile we metropolitan, big with words, your spit is thin.
Able to be processed within text,
You never actually get a grip of my lithium spit,
Saliva, acid trip
Fuck off you fashionista, Oliver Twist bums,
We Stanley Kubrick, stupid, you just crumbs,
Ricky suns,
Alex and I at home, we watchin' arrogant gents,
With dark humor at bozo, funny yes men.
They all resent what we bring to the table, last supper,
For them, they have failed.
The world is flat so they fall off to extra crucifix nails.
Only to wake up in their own personal hell to go through,
But you've already put us through that with that music you do.
Let me in now
Let me in now
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