the residents - the knife fight lyrics
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[outro]
is obscurity itself the test tubes of tomorrow?
or is just the testing done to pave the way of sorrow?
is the challah[?] set upon the table for the bride of primadonnas?
or can indeed the one that will be free by finger popping mommas?
is the confusion of immorality little more than a doubt on a face of infinity?
or does indeed immorality feed upon itself and hence haseen to speed its own immortal conclusion?
is the scent of melting tin upon the cracks of time the mere excuse for letting loose, calling call cards of crime?
or is this verbose verbosity that very violation?
‘tis not the babbling brook run its way to oceans and streams, only to dry up and reign once more
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