however, earlier this year a reel of film tape marked "iii. country song in reverse," on one side and "daoboys sea world footage" on the other was discovered in the occupied zone of mena, arkansas we here at the museum of failure were lucky enough to have the artifact marked as historically important and the reel was shipped across border checkpoints having now seen the collection in its potential final form we now know that these pieces weren't just created by man but by heartbreak, anguish, frustration, infidelity, lust, addiction, divorce and suffering one may imagine the head of a constantly changing beast ripping open the author of these words with more and more blood the head of a fox wearing the young writer's body to prop them up whilst the second head of the pig snuffs out every word of regret this is true failure, embodied and immortalized this is embarrassment painted over the first and last name of the grave (is the recording on?)
was discovered in the occupied zone of mena, arkansas we here at the museum of failure were lucky enough to have the artifact marked as historically important and the reel was shipped across border checkpoints having now seen the collection in its potential final form we now know that these pieces weren't just created by man but by heartbreak, anguish, frustration, infidelity, lust, addiction, divorce and suffering one may imagine the head of a constantly changing beast ripping open the author of these words with more and more blood the head of a fox wearing the young writer's body to prop them up whilst the second head of the pig snuffs out every word of regret this is true failure, embodied and immortalized this is embarrassment painted over the first and last name of the grave (is the recording on?) this is i don't want to see you in heaven by the callous daoboys
'cause on that day my writer's block will be like every wall of sound i've ever written peace is directed to coexist to hate the sin and never your own kind
bullet tags on my spurs on the off chance that i die in the sand or the lawman is no bastard inception of harlot conclusions enslaved to the lake where his paramour sleeps and if i make it west, if it takes all year
i am so grateful for the way that you're supposed to be when will things change? i'm enjoying myself i'm raising eyebrows, but i'll never get caught press up your chest, that's how i like it you'll never know, she'll feel hell if she does don't ever tell, i'll win in court 6 months felt fine
