Solace

a can of war, u are really hiding in my shirt, i want your reason

jewish people are coming out of my orange juice

a glass of war because youre hardly there and youre hardly there

i cant tell u how to get out of war
i cant tell u how to get out of my
eyes

your serial number is pale

he's pale and she is a breeze

somebody squeezes your dehydration

slice your selenium montana moon

otis needed someone and she had a little cave

inch closer to the sun, you're blinded

your garments get caught, your garments get dried

do we make love in the small sun of the last day

little modern offended by the winter sun

gasoline fumes care if i button up

the english go and they were not going

says love me, yes, thru the morning; these are weird streets to u

u deserve a treasure, a serial number

inch closer, she says solace

u cave in, your verb is hard; inch closer to the sun

little bongo suckerfish sluicing in your bed says love me, yes, u

talk u out of my eyes u, i dont really, i dont really care

u deserve a can of war, a tv, your orange juice

a glass of my eyes in the sun