See you pal, waiting across the motorway in praise of the art of petrol on this very special day.
An on-stop frenetic dance as all the cars pile up, the art of all your madness, the art of self-destruct.
You're drunk and throwing up into the nearest Tesco bag, post-punk grandeur, with blended and schemey flag.
Wall-eyed wasted, you steal the fuss and crash it, graffiti-stained liver, caked in rust, right by the terminus.
See you pal, dipshit broke down the wrong door, after he forgot his keys.
Wanking off to cartoon cavalcade, the friendly ghost, broken screens and lukewarm lemonade.
* Laura Regal, stumps over flowing ashtrays, cascade, down on the orange-macking kappa, empty a pile of dirty clays.
Empty KP Disco bags and melted donkey bees, it's all discotheques and provincial ***.
Black lays agate, two birds laughing, what every woman wants a tire.
Bizzique, fallaby, smudgy lipstick, cray-bray, careering into last orders, high supper athendusia, Clydeside donkey ride, last bus roll.
Go the first night you *, nice song, nice sauce, I'll just roll you in for the ashtrays I emptied out of my pockets.
Who says you carry smoke on the bus, who will they let you take your drinks inside, not even if it's sunny.
Nemo, Baleri, jungle, why me tea, why you drink?
Teeth in fire, teeth in the * grass, finishing school for the * legume.
Come on T-* you lads cunts, come ahead, just keep it, you gotta make it through.
Put it in your * face pal, * gear, your teeth to play with, your teeth to play with.
Come on T-* you lads cunts, come ahead, just keep it, you gotta make it through.
Put it in your * face pal, * gear, your teeth to play with, your teeth to play with.
Put it in your * face pal, * gear, your teeth to play with.