Columns - Punching Nancy Grace lyrics

Spending my day biting my tongue and all you can do is let yours flap. Vomit is flying and all I can sense is the terrible taste of terrible taste. Orgasmic waves ascend from my arm to my brain. Orgasmic waves ascend from my arm to my brain. Dreaming my knuckles are lodged in her face... Your job's to wring the last drop from them, representing the sh** of the world. The sh** of the world, the sh** of the world. Your mouth is a disease. The remote chance that your face will explode keeps me dreaming. Keeps me believing.