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letra de at the old taco bell - the kernal

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well i’ve been moved in a week this thursday but i haven’t slept so great
my old blinds don’t fit nine windows and i’m baking shy of eight
but i’ll sweat the bed, my friend, because the rent is cheap as h-ll at the old taco bell

my toes stay froze in winter but she’d decked in stainless steel
i remember rinsing off the week on friday with a meal
before dining out was hiding my addiction to new belts at the old taco bell

you won’t find me undercover of whatever magazine
i got no shower and my roof’s imbued with bygone shades of green
when i lock my front door it’s four sixteen-penny nails in the old taco bell

they gather the symphony down the byp-ss once a year
in the churchyard where white women sip white wine and pine to cheer
they played this bela bartok that sent the whole lot running pale to the old taco bell

they battened down my gl-ss door, ripped the counter for a shield
in fear of what fine silver made the sword the lord would wield
for bowing to the boredom, driving up the devil’s sales at the old taco bell

but jesus, sipping some ice water, said:
“hey, could you guys spare some room to melt my sword of silver down to one big tablespoon?”
he fattened us on laughter, after that he snagged a gale from the old taco bell

- the kernal

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