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hemlock ernst & kenny segal - stone soup lyrics

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don to a blown speaker
castle made of sand — cheapened
pico de gallo, my mamacita, a dream teacher
how she stick it and move
how i stick to the groove, meat weaver
pinch of salt, scorpion tail, whale wide open
as the plane dives cause the head rush
like first cigarette after noon
after full moons, we embrace
-ssimilate to our cocoon
stone soup sippin’ after tones loop
tones on tail retail hot topic, iron stopper
i pop the coochie like a four on the floor
mix the country shine with the 40 watt lime
blazin’ my head, citrus taste my mistress
lil’ grapefruit twist my engines
spit fire for a time
then i smoke a cig and wash the dishes
look out the front door where sodium bulbs fl!cker
wonder what i’ll cook for dinner
country stir fry will serve me fine
grandmama used to cut the cabbage blind
sam’s appet-te satiated in that instance
i’ll be gone for a night but don’t wait up
i’ll be back to reinvent this

count the seconds ‘tween the first and last
before computer crash
not a rookie, just a cookie crumblin’
you’re almond milk, silky thigh i tickled while you giggled wild
promise of home deeper, cannonball through chrome receiver
vinyl stacks, a country preacher
buzz my humble beeper, flips my phone like a stone to reach ya
dropped in the soup while potatoes chop
cut my finger on the soda top
sixty seconds singin’ temptations
now it’s domino’s, now it’s no relations
thirty minutes late and

remember, i kissed the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kiss the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kissed the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kiss the blood

and mix up the bisquick, wait to watch the tension
sunrise over mountains driftin’, all of time suspended
you know it’s all sorta like religion
bon vivant, hari-kari stiches
caress the wrinkles out the sheet, the mission
after i brush my t–th, i blow the beak
pour the coffee and clean the sink
a king in his chair, with no mystique
i just watch the ducks and feed the stream
i push my hand through the screen door, a walk on the porch
not a pop, not a drop of the hooch, in my flask
bask in the glory of one summer, an old story
and no tomorrow, lookin’ for somethin’ borrowed
i’m kinda blue, that stone stew
driftin’ while the vapors sing, while the vapors sing
if i had wings, i’d fly south tomorrow
further than farther, i couldn’t offer
places i couldn’t pr-nounce like ‘our fathers’, and why bother
recite my blessings in the winter’s arbor
half these lessons, leave me whole depressing
holding meetings like i’m old and needy

bon vivant, hari-kari stiches
bon vivant, hari-kari stiches
bon vivant, hari-kari stiches
remember, i kissed the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kiss the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kissed the blood when your tummy’s achin’
remember, i kiss the blood



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