Hard Milk from Lunch by Fatkid

Sisyphus task
I gotta pick up the flask
A lot of things on my back
I'm out of questions to ask
But my vicarious death
Is a precarious mask
So when I run out of breath
That won't be me in the casket

What's it about
You'll never figure it out
You've got to open the door
To this enlightening doubt
But now your careless mistake
Has brought this permanent drought
You rotten timorous snake
You wretched slippery lout

So you think you're a real hotshot, eh?
Think you're a real tough guy, well okay.
I am the end of this predicament
Nothingness succinctly
With his great big hands
He will turn me inside out
And you'll see why
They call me Qlondorp the Great
Nothing you say can reverse the machinery
Nothing we do will leave something to mend
Nobody cares that you're changing the scenery
Nothing is all that you are in the end

• American Noise
• Idiot Metal
• Post-Glorp
• Punk
• Rock & Roll
• Sewer Punk
• Chicago