My Time, Yer Time
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My Time, Yer Time
folds and folds of hurling whirling words come spilling out yer hole
dont intellectualize yer eloquent vomit when you rise
now peter had Paul dont have it I have it have it said I
in this rolling glowing growing stolen place that dont belong to me
it aint funny you say ok I had it up to here with you
this giddy little lifetime yer time my time dont agree with you
some temper axes in the fire some sharpen knives upon a stone
some chop up veggies in the hobart some use the bloody robo coup
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* Gracias a AdriRanis por haber añadido esta letra el 27/4/2007.