born as lonely as a farmer's goat
My father, my mother and my brother.
We ventured to eastern hemisphere,
pink lights and red district.
My parents flew with the storks
and producing extra sister,
returned forward to San Francisco.
I got left behind, but no problems,
because Lily, with the massive thighs,
There my heart will be forever.
I knew this mo ment would come.
But I will not up that one day you will return
I grew up learning nothing,
and an old man reached out to me
and said, Don't speak, play bass,
talking ruins affection like the skies.
I hid my tongue for all eternity,
only sometimes reappearing
Whoever said that silence is golden?
The bass climbs and rebreaths
the skirts of many followers.
and heaven in my own quiet.
But just sometimes I remember the
And it's the sound, my heavy breath
And blood that looks to feel sweet