smokin' and fartin' again behind the house
trainin' blue, it's all cleared out now
just the boxes and bags
and the boxes of bags
wrapping my teacups in paper rags
just the cock and the crow
dippin' in and flippin' shit
pullin' up all the roots
bashing in the floors
there's a river runnin' down there
lay down, get up, smoke, lay down
echo Francine and Guy, then lay down
just a machine that runs on stress