Patron Saint

I subscribe to the Digest, a slime mold of the Pacific Northwest

You were left out in the sun until you went dry

You're on the public transport. Spouting shit that no one asked for

Hateful, rhetoric, you're the patron saint of dumb cunts

I said, don't worry, mother, I'm not out here killing my brothers

Unlike some of the others who forget that they've got brothers

Talk about a far-reaching concept with no lack of intent

It's just imperial rent, they want it for themselves

No light at the end of the line. No love at the end of the tunnel

No light at the end of the line. Wide entrance, small exit like a funnel

No light at the end of the line. No love at the end of the tunnel

No light at the end of the line. Wide entrance, small exit like a funnel

No light at the end of the line. No love at the end of the tunnel

No light at the end of the line,