Sluggo, Standing at That Very Spot

Spill a little bit of blood for love

And those who know they think

Too much.

Count seven to heaven and thank

The Slug

For helping this earthling

Set his brains free!

I've studies my lessons

While counting seconds

Down to when the paint sets in.

Reflections are in the walls

And references held sacred.

Like you, I will build and wait

For them to break it.

It's been a long road knowing

These ribs will constantly

Be taken, equated as another

Fraction, subtracted, with more

To be added into the argument.

No longer to get over the situation.

I had to live it to get what we're

Really saying.

Let's tell em over any beat playin'

The weed fiends Sun has arisen.

On the freeway is where the

Secret key is collected.

Freedom is this cat, van and

spraypaint in bags.

Another sad clown laughs

At all the other inside-out men.

This sad clown wonders if you'll

Ever truly taste the ink from this pen?

It's seasoned for the horses,

Not the king and his men.

Peace to Slug and Ant of Atmos