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The Art Of Blowing Glass Vs The Act Of Breaking It - Gdp Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: G gdp | Published: 2024-20-09T17:00:07:00+07:00

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a pimp like dumbledore, a wh0r- like mother mary
tele-vanglists keep closets full of fairies
pet truck stop lot lizards and aged cherry
i saw her crying at the drive-in, thought her bruises was cute
the sick heart is a carnival and we’re just p-ssing through
something told me to run, never could trust the truth
happiness is warm c-m, bang bang, shoot shoot

there are worst things than being alone
or so it goes, take her number out my phone
and play a song that i know on the stereo
she will come around like a merry-go
and there we go, menthol lights and diet cherry c0ke
her breath smells of formaldehyde and a thousand guys
when we would drive the mountain side and try her mother’s wine
but i can never find the time cause she’s dead behind the eyes
besides; the only chemistry is pride
she’s to naive; which is why she always dry heave
and wear the wild fits to make the guys scream for ice cream
i need to get my eyes off of her high-beams
but when i try and leave she always finds me, the size queen
her skin is paper and her spine is just a string
she’s had a couple partner’s but it’s tighter than you think

there are worst thing’s than being alone, i know i know but
i was at a low when i had her at h-llo
and if i told her once i must’ve told her thirty times before
just a man taking what he needs from the store
but she wanted more, and can i bum another smoke?
sleeping through september waking up beside a ghost

there are worst things than being alone, i sold my soul
for a firm set of t-tties and a shallow barren hole
she said she wishes it was only just the two of us
i love you like my first time shootin’ up
she said her past has got nothing to do with us
do a bump or two of adderall and get all loosened up

i searched the cabbage patch nebula and it gave me a garbage pail kid
she made all my abortions as true as they is
and every sunset and apocalypse a lost heart
i loved you so crazy i lost my art; joan of arc
baby, i was lost to start

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