the henry clay people – social sc*entology lyrics
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the misadventure of our dying trees
behold the flavor of the centuries
i believe in social scientology
or any sh+t that makes me think i’m free
sold half kegs in a brown bag for
all the hyper kids and all the fashion wh0res
hold the position of the figure eight times eight by eight doesn’t this feel great?
but you flock like a fiche when the pain escape
oh my god, my god, oh my god doesn’t this feel great?
doesn’t this feel, doesn’t this feel, don’t we all feel great?
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