Grapefruit Head

Track off of Alias Punch album#1, Alias Punch.

You find yourself riding,
On a twilight train,
Where you know them bandits,
Are keeping dry from the rain,
They're carrying stolen goods,
That they have found,
In every candy village,
And every isolated town,
They don't mind the grapefruit,
You've got for a head,
Or all the flies licking it up,
Like mold on dead bread,
You pull out your handkerchief,
And wipe away the juice,
That's dripping from your head,
Onto your 1970's dress suit,

Through midnight massacres,
It comes and it goes,
Through shrouds of dark clouds,
It speeds past the ghosts,
With a screech and a rumble,
The slowing train roars,
And it comes to a stop,
As a familiar face boards,
"I'm looking for the thief," says your best friend,
"That stole my pride"
And the look in his eyes,
Would hurt any other man inside,
But you just make a sucking noise,
And wipe away more juice,
As the poor senor,
Is sent back to the caboose,

Your rich cleavage Shiva,
She pulls you by the hand,
Over to the Bullshit factory,
To make your bullshit man,
You turn a few levers,
And pull a few knobs,
Off the conveyor belt steps,
This pregnant woman that sobs,
In shackles she cackles,
With spread legs she moans,
She pops out your fool,
Who's already mature and fully grown,
You punch him in the gut,
And tie him down, to boot,
And with a blade you cut off his face,
And wear it over your grapefruit.