I Hurtle Back To A Conservative Locker

Cushioned, my hair, returns to a modest helmet

But always rough ridden with new hidden rents and tears

Inside is my toxic Bohemia, and nightly its rotten circus, tours its fetid underground, which is fairly enormous

I feel I must be a sad nazi somehow

I feel I must be a sad nazi somehow

I see young mother nature, and I want to defrock her

I hurtle back, to a conservative locker

With pictures of Marine and Rand and Lady Thatcher

Blu-tacked to the door of my tinny dream catcher

I hurtle back, to a conservative locker

and sleep the sleep, of a stone cold winner.

All of my emails are from Russian females

They put me in mind

put me in a hard soul kind

of heart murmur

I get firmer when I give them my replies

None of my emails are from Asian shemales

If you will be mine

I will love you long time

If you will be mine

I will love you a long time

I hurtle back, to a conservative locker

I need an alpha, I need a beta blocker

All the booze and fags in the world

My playground keeps increasing

I hear death cries from the night skies

I don’t care what little lives are ceasing

I feel I must’ve arrived

at the end of the race

Nobody can keep up with this alien pace

I feel I must’ve arrived at the end of the race

Nobody can keep up

nobody can keep up

I hurtle back, to a conservative locker

I see young mother nature

And I want to defrock her

If you will be mine

If you will be mine

If you will be mine

opiano opiano opiano so divine