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Robot Sex Party Spine Rip Fatality

from The Almighty Aardvoctomalark! by Steaksauce Mustache

/

lyrics

Grind me up, don’t like what you taste, Tin Man?
Well then, spit me out, you don’t look too good, did the blood rust your machine?
Chew me up, don’t like what you taste, Lion?
Well then spit me out, you don’t look too good, did you lose your taste for meat?
I'm not what you say I am, you’re not what you think you are.
Sex won’t turn you into a real boy, school won’t make you into a genius.
Scarecrow.
Throw down, or throw up, Iocane makes no difference in my cup.
The reflective metal skin hides the cords and the circuit interior in their minds.
But cut to the center and you will find a heart that beats just like yours and mine.
We worship idols on red carpets, but look closer and you’ll find the puppet.
Bow to balls of burning gasoline..
Be who we cloned you to. Buy what we merchandise,
Eat what we kill for you. Sugar helps the pack of lies.
My sticks and stones will bring you down and by your own sword I’ll take your crown.
Off with Hollywood’s head. The man behind the curtain will soon be dead.
Be free for you were made to be, different than them and different than me.
Off with their heads.

credits

from The Almighty Aardvoctomalark!, released April 15, 2014

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Steaksauce Mustache Austin, Texas

Full-Boar Chaotic Partycore

Sauce Swag •
steaksaucemustache.com

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