Island, IS - Volcano Choir

Owen, you’re home

The sun set it on to the sky

With a long catapult

And the salt that he put to the side

And the tones he would push and the songs he would push to the side

When it all went a fuck in the snow that gets pushed to the side

Well your heart is a bush and it’s talking, too, with some size

When you already put all of the soot inside

They were already smushed with a calm steady push to the side

All that your heart finds

On with your own wife

Sign

Up

All

Your

Relatives

Only a harbor mind

In turpentine

I’m the reaper bahn

Calm the arrival

Tear it to the night

Heart is said, you boy

Come and serve it with an omelette

And you’re on it

With the carpet

You solved it

Said you’re corporate

Set your orbit

Set your coffin

Said its often

That your old fits

Are your old tits

On your hard drive