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lyrics

In my brain mother fuckers ain't playin,
We wait and wait all day outside the jail,
For my friend Jimbo to come to the window,
And say, hey, baby, yay, isn't life great,

Isn't life great?

Mechanical spiders come to rule this town,
I blow those fuckers down, blow those mother fuckers down,
With the giant machine guns mounted on my car,
We're driving through town, blowin shit up,

Isn't life great?

In my makeshift world, Tropical Island,
Where it makes it all okay,
My Jamaican Mall, Greenhouse Studios,
Where it all begins to fade,

And where there are now mountains,
May one day be beachfront property,
Thanks to volcano's quaking,
So don't complain about the heat,
Until that dragged out oceans coast,
Boils right before your feet,

In warmth we'll bathe,
Hazy, dull-orange glaze,
Wrap the world up in my lazy blaze,
Melt, repeat to freeze, please parade,

But you're still number one,
In my book of guns,
To shoot myself from,

Ya you're still number one,
In my book of guns,
To shoot myself from

credits

from Sects with the Best Funk Away all the Rest, released May 28, 2022

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Hologram Pants Jackson, Mississippi

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