Saturn Missiles lyrics

Step on the lawn I keep the foot, peep
In the pot go six degrees of cooked geese
Boiling, blitz the beach of mushed peas
Over ten meat hooks with a blister each
I'm all pincer, fevery hoodie-on hoodie-off
Sweat through his E.T. sheets to the worry dolls
Never met a quiet storm
That didn't grow into a choir of colliding horns
That go "click click clack" in territorial syntax
Sitting on the porch with his lids pinned back
Pinball whiz in a thimble of Sims
I'm a symbol of whimsy abridged
Kiss Me, I'm Dead
Nursing a mystery, DayQuil
Led Zep staring daggers down page mill
How pray tell do he sit pretty?
When the old one-two unglue in a tizzy

Please hold for the don't-play dull boy
Click: I am not a page or a pull toy
Came in the door and the floor is lava
Killjoy if your core more Norman Rockwell
Born homesick for an invisible address, batsh*t
Bumble and bat around catnip
One black-heart Katamari massive
Packed in a fat category-5 rat nest
Nose on his sleeve, holes in his inner peace
Robot phone like a tentacle of flippancy
I hate you (I hate you more)
No, I hate you infinity
And Pangaea break into smithereens
Interlude presto change-o
If it move too quick (oh whey oh)
Right brain go write train Ramo
Mustache any old Monet, (no)
Yes
Merrily merrily merrily merrily
In a cobweb tomb on a hotbed of heresy
Frogmen schooled by the god Ed Emberley
Pull dog sleds and exhume Dead Kennedys
Bet: moth into kerosene awful
A caution to straw men lost on Vaudeville
Amorally mixing business
With 144 Dixie Whistlers
Lawnchair strongman twisted whiskers
NASCAR Bic in his missing fingers
Outcast from a system of kiss-the-ringers
Are you privy to the misadventures?

It's electric, meeting in the middle of the street
With a lethally modified Piccolo Pete
There is admittedly an incredible mystique
To meddling in the reason a city won't sleep
48 strings of twelve
That ring ring ring whiz-bang jingle bells
And melt bootleg G.I. Joes to black taffy
Classic fire-in-the-hole backdrafting
Fold wildlife out of Wolf Pack wrapping
Full moon, bad knee, wool hat, caffeine
TNT plunger in all-caps ACME
Blast off half of the whole damn mapscreen
No sling no spear
I'm a patchwork of 86'd springs and gears
Who been stung by an unlinked pinky swear
During his what-in-the-f*ck-was-I-thinking years
Hmm, maybe an awkward phase
Like his acne and sophomore fade, played
Calling all out-of-work action figures
It was death by Saturn Missiles