Posse
Comoradae
When
the mushrooms
Shoot
up
It
will be just like
Old
times
I
want to be with them
When
they set
The
bee traps
My
Monte Carlo
Will
be fitted with
A
20mm cannon
Darwin
was a
Fuddle-head
We’ll
turn back
The
clocks
A
thousand years
Bent
bark
Not
in the rain
The
lead ladies
Will
play their harps
I
want to crawl
Under
a heat blanket
With
the Posse
I’m
gonna ride back
To
the middle ages
With
the Posse
They
will sow weeds
Where
the amber waves
Have
been
To
feed on
Geese
formation
Fighting
with mushrooms
The
rubble by storm
My
mommy and me
Are
bent over
Thrifty
sofa
Slide from the couch, mommy
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