you put me down with a stick you got
that safety pin grip you know me like you
know ice on a fire dust myself off with a
spoon you shot your darts at the moon
and this piece didn뭪 tear too soon now
it뭩 dust the rubber burns peeling out
behind the wheel and you뭨e looking for
the holes that I don뭪 have caught on
underneath my heel but now i뭢 moving
on moving on from your safety pin inside
the scoop outside the rage mothballs
galore caught in the drain your hat뭩 on
tight like super glue you dug the pit you
stepped in it and now you뭨e out with the
prick you뭨e going down without this ship