Get in the pick-up truck, we're goin' for a ride
Come
She folds her arms up nicely
lays them down upon the
I am made of tons of tiny countries
With closely guarded
Let us turn our backs on this world of ease
Let
A man who would be king, a big thing
To move
The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet
Mouth of beast, ravening
Worshipful, their eyes sent reeling
Head first
Into the
Let me give it all to the very small thing
that
Writhing in the opus
Never forget this
Reeling in the sweet
There is a creature. It has to feed.
It stops
At last in the trembling leaves
This bone-cage slips away
Lost in
Now I have your shoes
Today I wear your old black
» More on Sleepytime Gorilla Museum