Milkcrate Mosh

The gin was just like Gideon
The kings were just like Solomon
The bashes were like Babylon
The jester kept on jacking off
Nervous cough, nervous cough, nervous cough and now we’re off
Went down on the Denver slums and she woke up in the Rocky Mountain dawn
Felt all freed up from the fears that you can never put your finger on
Finger on, finger on, finger on and now we’re gone
We were smoking to the drinking songs off Talking Songs for Walking
Waving Marlboros like magic wands
Listen up closely to the lit tips of your cigarettes
Can’t you hear the serpent hiss?
Saying «sweet baby suck on this»
The white wine was the nectar
The oldies made me feel like Phil Spector
Is Charlemagne your main man or is he just your sad protector?
You know you look so good together
But sometimes i get a feeling that you’re a little bit restless
It’s a small scene already and it gets dirty on the fringes
You sucked through his defenses
She said I usually wouldn’t do this
But I couldn’t help but notice
You had that text across your t-shirt
It said «what would Judas do?»
He had those punching rings
He smoked the Camel Filter Kings
We went back behind the building
He did a brisk little business
His party favors were party saviors
Otherwise we might have never made it
Went down in the Springfield slums and woke up in the Sugar Mountain pines
Only to find that what you put into your mouth always gets into your mind