Qui bon tres bien, nails in cement
A Donnie gal from mortal clay
The plow is red
THe well is full inside
The dollhouse of her skull
A cheetah coat fills up with steam
She's such a scream
All crooked lines
Her fireplace
A milktrain so clean
Machine gun haste
You'll ride the only wall of shame
And drag that chain across the state
Her lips are red
She is the queen
She's such a scream