HAIL MARY MALLON


Church Pants Lyrics

Church Pants
Chorus
When the rats rose up and they broke their silence
And assembled on the shores of their closest island
With their folks beside them
In a Rouge defiance
When two by two and a road beside it
2 x 2 x 2 x 2
Two buy two buy two buy two
8) bye 8) bye 8)
{Rob Sonic}
Leopard print speedo on the FDR saying follow that car
Follow that car
Same aids different shit name
Same blanket pocket
49 minor slip
Pickin pan
Thanks a lot
Hooking reel
Pushing wheel
Building more story land, honest deal, daily dose
18 bones quarry hands
I praise the day that porn began
Loser wins the qp door not the father maury dance
Sad will spin
Apple singe
Kings and cry
Acid by the clergy where not worthy of the crimson tide
Let it be
Just be weird
Prison Pride
Proud Marry keep on burning down the house there’s kids inside
Give it Time
Speaking sauce
Send him in, tell him what he’s here for and a peer sure to his next of kin
Set your sail better now, elbow back trading in the British pound sitting down with metal dad
Kettles black might explode, sign the paper, resuscitate me if the doctors are the kind that cater
Lay the party line
Prime with wine and wafer
You’ll get buried in the Deseret like im gator hater
Chorus
{Aes}
Strange day…
Pink bunny slippers on the FDR saying follow that car
Follow that car
Mothman morph to avoid a new cocoon
More aches in his joints then joints in his human suit
No Cigar
Scoop dirt
Smitty of the hook in mouth
Footwork
Itchy for a hook and snout
Do and Die intruder bounds
Zoomed on the stupefy and truancy
Santa’s little helpers watching nelly pull her Brooklyn out
Barred hex
Barred Doc Rx
Bar kill the headlights when approaching a Harvey nest
Never oscillating art noise
Operated charter stoned hearts at are gargoyles
Get it when the guard dogs Ruf!
This is not behavior distorted by the presence of other personage
More or naturally occurring perfect mess
Curving every letter from the burning bridge
Paranormal death match check back early-ish
Crack bread
Married a cursed hand
To its weapon like a slurrpy to church pants
Circle the work hand
21 spud guns burnt up a bird land
…Hold time…
Swerving to work van….

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Record Label(s): 2011 Rhymesayers Entertainment, Llc
Official lyrics by

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