In my death mask In my mismatched suit I pilate-chop you across the stage I met a musing gospel in the baffled tee mid its way To my red-hilt brain The drinks had martyred lunch effectively before I even rose to speak Don't want to disanoint the campaign but Jesus who lives on me Rent free A man's life, God's trash There's no law but the old law, baby Petit four, nothing dies Said by ass-drawn kamikaze Year zero in the summertime Year zero in the summertime Pick me the sling A little clopper trying, met him, Mac boy, hairy guys Oh I left you for the honey Couldn't try to you if I lied If I lied A man's life, God's Trash There's no law but the old law, baby Petit four, nothing dies Said by ass-drawn Kamikaze God said no, I said twice Come on big man, won't you make me? Year zero in the summertime Year zero in the summertime Bad gambler Slaycation Hal Ashby Fast fashion