a variant of mescaline - the taxpayers lyrics
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what a face
lips on fire
contusions at its throat
what a man spitting out words in a venomous tone
stick him in an unmarked holding tank
pay the rail fare, take the subway home
what a look
leather in drag
anachronistic common*minded punk
belonging to a place that existed once but ceases to exist here anymore
stick him in a library with books pressin up against his skin
pay the rail fare, take the subway home
we were on a variant of mescaline, runnin down the highway
h*llhounds on our tails
explosions, confusion, cops in passing cop cars
run him up without bail
you will not become anybody else
you will arise
you will
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