Someone once vomited in front of me at a King Gizzard concert. The worst part was they couldn't even wait until Vomit Coffin.
The fart's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely feces
And a stinky wind blowsThe band is playing
And we're on so many drugs
With the amps on and the flashlights drawnWe're trapped in the belly of this horrible concert
And the butt is pooping to deathThe sun has fallen down
And the concertgoers are all leering
And the crap sits dead in pestulent pilesI said: "piss on me, you're beautiful -
These are truly the gas days".
You brapped my pants and we fell into it.
Like a daydream or a fever
We woke up one morning and farded a little further down
For sure as the valley of death
I open up my wallet
And it's full of poop
