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If I clean my rocket we'll go flying today |
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And we'll hit the pockets of warm and crispy air |
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If I clean my rocket we'll go flying today |
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And we'll hit the pockets of warm and crispy air |
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Oh, you lovely boy, you smell so sweet, we ride so well |
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And we load our pistols as we perch upon my razor wings |
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Up to the planets, up to the bodies of the galaxy |
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We fly, we feed, we suck, we bleed, we need |
|
If I clean my rocket we'll go flying today |
|
And we'll hit the pockets of warm and crispy air |
|
If I clean my rocket we'll go flying today |
|
And we'll hit the pockets of warm and crispy air |
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Oh, we flee the scene of our little crime, we feel so free |
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But the hounds of law they bite our heels as we retreat |
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Up to the planets, up to the bodies of the galaxy |
|
We fly, we feed, we suck, we bleed, we need |
|
If I clean my rocket, if I clean my rocket |
|
We'll hit the pockets |
|
If I clean my rocket, if I clean my rocket |
|
We'll hit the pockets |
|
If I clean my rocket, if I clean my rocket |
|
We'll hit the pockets |
|
If I clean my rocket, if I clean my rocket |
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We'll hit the pockets |
