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Poor Pavel
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Hail Mary Mallon
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Letra
Poor Pavel Even though your mom’s a model You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house Can’t you see, see? It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble I’m Florian Schneider A valеdictorian choreographing psyche mental bindеrs That try for the (?) or go with the flow like bouncing ball reminders We out here, we giveth, we taketh away if you are cruel not kinder Influencer insider, what a time this is Where the business-minded hybrid lives Where dreams may come and go Where the wild things are and do they biz In Hoff-like, environment Goth spikes, retirement Moth dust, colodipen Shook ones, try again My philosophy lingo My wardrobe was forged by God herself I’m a God myself though Imma guide myself, don’t need no help Re-encompass those trumpets you hear In clouds and also bells hourly Forensic Files on the Vatican tiles or mob wives devour thee A striking resemblance to Cersei, they b*t*h face, we b*t*h face They witch mage, which witch page will you end up on? ‘Cause we on the front The small winded version of farewells and so longs From us to those who tend to carry on in they merry song Poor Pavel Even though your mom’s a model You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house Can’t you see, see? It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble My pits smell like an Arthur Ave deli My wits end in a larger cat’s belly My starter cap's filthy and my angel’s got eyes On the butterscotch cookies and the tabletop pies Wave the lost, (?) another week without weddings My caterers are laborers or beaten down weapons And acid-washed denims in their emblems don’t match So we feed ‘em to the heathens that are several rows back Get the Bozack [?] ain’t nothing but time To waste away the database and cut in lunch lines Coming up blind in the bamboo garage With some old 45s and a brand new Naväge King commérage, keep the stardust glitters My elbows turn to jello in my spark plug slippers If Karma’s such a b*t*h I wish she settled this sh*t With them Scooby Doo zealots and them meddling kids Poor Pavel Even though your mom’s a model You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house Can’t you see, see? It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble If I’m horizontal eight hours on a thousand nails Waking up and spoiling pudding, p*ss into the howling gales It’s howling back and how to zero in on whence the alpha hails Smoke ‘em out, show ‘em what a little cat and mouse entails Or we can fast forward to a feline full of mouse entrails The tail hanging from his mouth, turn a bouncer pale The bones floating in his vomit turn a bully green You sweating bullets homie, pull up, I start pulling weeds No-dozer, home with drones over Old stoner, crows on both shoulders Skeleton boat rowers in the city on shore leave Breaking down doors, swinging oars at some poor dame Throwing horns up, jumping on parked cars Fork out, the (?) looking like tartar Birds eye on the (?) for the final shot Dark star brightest, Dark Time Sunshine o’clock
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