Brink Of The Clouds
Bring on the clouds
Why you why you why you why you wait
Head for my (?)
Baby baby baby baby baby baby
Well I know what you want
I know what I want
One rosy (?) on your neck
it's criminal when you read
I saw fame and fortune
and everything that goes with it
in my palm
and the rice wine that we drank
disintigrated in a laser storm
and the pickups on my guitar are rusty
and so is my scabbard knee
...for me...
Candylad, candylad, candylad, candylad
he's a candylad, he's a lad made of candy
he's a lad made of candy
(bring it up, boys)
candylad, he's a lad made of candy
candylad, he's a lad made of candy
candylad, he's a lad made of candy
and the sugar and spice
in his armpits
is twice as nice as the caramel
between his toes
