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In the humble stench of nativity, |
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Hummed the smell of television snow. |
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A faint S.O.S. flickering, |
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Riding on the coattails of your ground zero. |
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Neighborhood footprints ingrown. |
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The daylight savings time will never know |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster. |
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Your lover's quarrel ended up in a crawspace. |
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Dental identities will tell us apart. |
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Teeth marked and bounded with sighs. |
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"Step into my parlor." said the spider to the fly. |
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Stable hooved footprints ingrown. |
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Cloak and dagger music blared in ohms |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster cold. |
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Ingrown! Ingrown! |
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Ingrown! Ingrown! |
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More caliber per capita. |
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Ingrown! Ingrown! |
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More caliber per capita. |
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Ingrown! |
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More caliber per capita. |
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More, more, more, more caliber per capita. |
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More, more caliber per capita. |
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More caliber per capita. |
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Neighborhood footprints ingrown. |
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The daylight savings time will never know. |
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Breakfast table search teams implode. |
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The milk cartons that pour will never know |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster cold, |
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of this alabaster |
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cold. |
