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letra de forty-three masonic - foibles

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write these words
so they might not choke the
rag-top volkswagen you used to drive
’til you drank all the fuel
you tried to cut school
but you failed

rushmore’s nose
better to poke you with
chemistry blows
hey, the bus driver’s dead
how, then, do we get home?
we’ve already outgrown everything (everything)

type the comforts of the ride
my shoelace is tied
f-ckboys pass out in the street
white as sunsеt sounds behind you
roll your eyes
’causе maybe that f-ckup was me

bus stop wise
tuesday is wednesday
the hermit drug chemist plays clarinet beach
insecurity fits
some protest song sits
on his brain
mascot wars
five-to-one odds on the
freshman dressed up like a tree squirrel on crank
hear the goth rocker cry
“simon says,” and he sighs
and he’s gone

cite the comforts of the ride
my shoelace is tied
f-ckboys pass out in the street
white as sunset sounds behind you
roll your eyes
’cause maybe that f-ckup was me
maybe that f-ckup was me

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