Sit and make love to a cigarette
His mama said she was a teacher's pet
The thought of her, begging to make him sweat
The thought of his breath climbing down her neck
Kimmy was hangin' out with a gun
Mama said he was the gifted son
I wanted you to come
I am your number one
Smothering shit all over the wire
No brother, no sister, ain't here for miles
He kept all his secrets locked in a vial
A son of a bitch, you're a paedophile
You're my paedophile
You're a paedophile
You're a paedophile
Are you?
Are you sound?
Are you?
Are you sound?
He's got a mouthful of dirt
He's got an eyeful of spit
He's got no time to kill
His personality is shoveling shit
I wasn't there
Are you?
Are you sound?
Are you?
Are you sound?
Sound
Sound
