Fame Throwa

fame throwa pass out the gold
the diamond watch, the last reward
all the things we had before
you sold us out and took it all
head-borne cries from zenith sluts
astral rites from dead-end ruts
these ends are sick-end wars
these ends was sick-end wars
it’s one of our nation’s spies
it’s one of our first recruits
I click with her leather thighs
it’s one of our first recruits
how can you know
in the distance lies a grower
nee roudolph king of fame throwa
son of groupie, red-worn sexan
spent his cash convincing us that the desert was a starscape
and took our lives for a satellite so we could cry
naked, naked foul
it’s one of our nation’s spies
it’s one of our first recruits
I click with her leather thighs
it’s one of our first recruits