Ahhh… Men

starin' out the window of our tour bus,
and it's just the horny driver and us.
we sit and trade wit and smoke and we cuss,
talking 'bout our friendly border drug bust.
and i know the future's cloudy and grey,
record like mine, give up or go gay.
you're looking down at me with blue and black eyes,
pissin down a storm from purple night skies.

ahh huh
uhh huuh
ahh huh
uhh huh

and i know the concept's muddy and trite,
that all that is large and all that is slight,
it's flowing in the stream of holy flood lights.
writing holy books, lord knows we bite.
but if this is your will and my testament,
i will bow in no believe that they bent.
still, i'm just a sperm begat from your love,
basking in the bread the blood of your dove.

ahh huh
uhh huuh
ahh huh
uhh huh

can i lie with you in your grave?

there's a crack in the edge of the end of the world,
where i will sit with my love in it's flourescent swirl.
eat us up, break it down to the tiniest cell.
in our room with a view of the window to hell-
where those who bury bodies and their barrels of fun
will be marched through museums that display what they've done.
they'll be shot up through the sky by a cannon of sin,
who reluctantly let them in.

so can i lie in your grave at the edge of the end of the world,
where i will sit with my love in it's flourescent swirl.
eat us up, break it down to the tiniest cell.
in our room with a view of the window to hell-
where those who bury bodies and their barrels of fun
will be marched through museums that display what they've done.
they'll be shot up through the sky by a cannon of sin,
who reluctantly let them in.
So can i lie in your grave?

can i lie with you in your grave?
So can i lie in your grave?