Good News for the Pus Pickers
Seven flowers on the hour cry
"We are groaning for the sons,
Of the One who makes us sing,
To reveal themselves this spring"
We just got outta jail today
And we all are here to say,
All us speaking for the band,
Airplane faith is in your hand
Through the fire and the river
But never ever all alone,
When He set the broken bone,
Hell the grave fell overthrown
On heals Kingdom Come
Comfort creme pours out
On the limb there is the children
Opposite of doormat
So tip your hat and wait on that
And that is that
The last kick
In the teeth
Is the first
Of the blocks
Set to song,
Hum along
And poisons peeved
Double minded me off
Of myself
Dust the eyes
Of my heart
That's on the shelf
We have all picked our noses tall,
Pitfalls and black holes have robbed,
But thanksgiving was our sail,
In three shakes of the lamb's tail
Seven flowers on the hour cry
"Balance seems to be the key,
Join into the famile,
Singing let us a.b.c."
They call me chief, they call me hoss
"You call me son, so I am son"
We live in two worlds, unseen and seen
"Kingdom squeaky clean, resting squeaky clean"
Join into the ships, when your mind is wild
"You call me child, so I am child"