Poor Pavel - Dark Time Sunshine, Hail Mary Mallon

Poor Pavel

Even though your mom’s a model

You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle

Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat

So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house

Can’t you see, see?

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

I’m Florian Schneider

A valdictorian choreographing psyche mental bindrs

That try for the (?) or go with the flow like bouncing ball reminders

We out here, we giveth, we taketh away if you are cruel not kinder

Influencer insider, what a time this is

Where the business-minded hybrid lives

Where dreams may come and go

Where the wild things are and do they biz

In Hoff-like, environment

Goth spikes, retirement

Moth dust, colodipen

Shook ones, try again

My philosophy lingo

My wardrobe was forged by God herself

I’m a God myself though

Imma guide myself, don’t need no help

Re-encompass those trumpets you hear

In clouds and also bells hourly

Forensic Files on the Vatican tiles or mob wives devour thee

A striking resemblance to Cersei, they bitch face, we bitch face

They witch mage, which witch page will you end up on?

‘Cause we on the front

The small winded version of farewells and so longs

From us to those who tend to carry on in they merry song

Poor Pavel

Even though your mom’s a model

You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle

Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat

So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house

Can’t you see, see?

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

My pits smell like an Arthur Ave deli

My wits end in a larger cat’s belly

My starter cap’s filthy and my angel’s got eyes

On the butterscotch cookies and the tabletop pies

Wave the lost, (?) another week without weddings

My caterers are laborers or beaten down weapons

And acid-washed denims in their emblems don’t match

So we feed ‘em to the heathens that are several rows back

Get the Bozack ain’t nothing but time

To waste away the database and cut in lunch lines

Coming up blind in the bamboo garage

With some old 45s and a brand new Naväge

King commérage, keep the stardust glitters

My elbows turn to jello in my spark plug slippers

If Karma’s such a bitch I wish she settled this shit

With them Scooby Doo zealots and them meddling kids

Poor Pavel

Even though your mom’s a model

You walk these streets panhandling, for a gold bottle

Call your moms bro, your dad’s a deadbeat

So it’s up to you and us to be a man of the house

Can’t you see, see?

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

It’s the others are attached to what we saying here Pavel

Poor Pavel, guess them turntables do wobble

If I’m horizontal eight hours on a thousand nails

Waking up and spoiling pudding, piss into the howling gales

It’s howling back and how to zero in on whence the alpha hails

Smoke ‘em out, show ‘em what a little cat and mouse entails

Or we can fast forward to a feline full of mouse entrails

The tail hanging from his mouth, turn a bouncer pale

The bones floating in his vomit turn a bully green

You sweating bullets homie, pull up, I start pulling weeds

No-dozer, home with drones over

Old stoner, crows on both shoulders

Skeleton boat rowers in the city on shore leave

Breaking down doors, swinging oars at some poor dame

Throwing horns up, jumping on parked cars

Fork out, the (?) looking like tartar

Birds eye on the (?) for the final shot

Dark star brightest, Dark Time Sunshine o’clock