Phantoms, or Waiting Out the Flood
Regas-Mcdonald
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I'm a greasy utopian on the hunt For a mouthy whipping boy on the lam Is he a phantom? The phantom is he you? He tick, tick, ticks on the back of your neck Like a guillotine wood 'til you're dripping down sweat And the whole room stick, stick, sticks Kick, kick, kick me dearest, baby-- For I'm a dog due for licks aplenty Let's make love and be merry Make haste, get married Build up our damn in helium-high reverie And wait out the flood Are you feeling up a phantom ol' boy? Pressing shirts for a phantom ol' boy? Shooting rye to the mouth of a phantom ol' boy? Blowing holes in the mouth of a canyon ol' boy? The phantom is he you? Sing for me, St. Goretti Comfort me in deep sleep with your lilies And I'd kneel for you true as the day's long Yes, weep for us, martyred Mary For all beggars and prominent families And spare us the lust for the son holding the gun With an eye for father's blood Oh, his blood Oh, holy river, it's running high and rud But can we wait out the flood?
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"Phantoms, or Waiting Out the Flood Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 7 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/4708823/Regas-Mcdonald/Phantoms%2C+or+Waiting+Out+the+Flood>.
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