telecaster blaster
that’s right i am the one they’re after
so you,
well you can call me master
a real cold cool disaster
spit on the mic
and tear down the plaster
oh shit man
that’s the man that rocks it faster
trans-post your soul
to the sweeter place
the sweetest little angel with the
sweetest
face
and now she gets replaced
and to get in tune
with the transitory soul
of the
moonlight
race
even if it’s all out of place
downing them bottles
sitting by the lake
and wishing
i was raging though
stars and space
to somewhere
my soul could finally rest
in
it’s
perfectly
safe
warm
place
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