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letra de morphius - post bag productions

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produced by post bag productions

[verse 1]

lord of the sand got his grips on me when i prance
feeling like a bent knee, cleats in the muddy trance
sword in my hand, ford rollin through the midnight sand
spin around 10 feet, smile at the stands
catch glimpse as the world spin ten times well before i land

roll in the deep, waiting for the lord to send me bands
feelin all my schillings slip down like urine in my pants
fall to my knees, like a leaf before a scissor handed man
win a round, stay till a lover turns fan
thatch cover won’t leak if you double like, lover turned friends

[verse 2]

rowin till i feel the flow in then go own a piece of dirt
grow in till i eat the potion then know what i’m really worth
see it on my face, in my body, in my gait height
try to make a metaphor to get it through your brain pipe

tired when i get to relocation of a pixel pop
everything will stop, for the matte black ratty top
maybe i can go to place where i know i can see you there
but i know that i would only suffer ‘fore the dream would end

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