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Quasar Wut Wut - Ass Kissin Lips Lyrics

Ass-Kissin' Lips :
Sometime in May the Harlequin came
From under the axles of some parade.

His pockets clinked with many things
That could make one a virgin again.

Isn’t it fine? Swing a dead monkey
From a vine...

“Such a lovely town
They’ve all got new brown
Shingles on their rooftops,
And the view of the sewer gates is something quite serene
From the clotheslines where they hang their little dreams...”

He lurches into the local chapter of B-movie stuntmen
Who’ve retired after showing off their favorite injuries;
Twelve-sixteenths are now amputees.

The one with scurvy gums and rubber nose plugs is screaming like a camel,
“Watch me bust up the scene
With lungs of kerosene
and blow myself halfway to Kingdom Come!”

How could He have known the forests of the East
Were full of their tinlegs and philacteries
When the pale ones gathered alms
From the charity of His loaded pockets?

La-Dee-Da, it’s dirt for dinner again,
While the others are chewing on the Cud of the Land...

All the cowboys in the county drug store whistle as he walks in,
But the corrugated air
Reveals there’s something hiding there
Behind the scratching of the runts and stupid grins.

The Stranger feigns a smile
And asks the way to the complimentary booze aisle,
When some wino at the door
Calls across the floor,
“Look at His spurs the size of God’s Great Tooth!”

La Luh-bi-duh Da da da da da da da...
Well, the pale ones gathered alms
From the charity of His loaded pockets.

La-Dee-Da, it’s dirt for dinner again,
While the others are chewing on the Cud of the Land...

His breath smelled of brandy
And peppermint candy
That He always kept close at hand.
He walked like His legs were made out of kegs,
And He spoke with a very strange rhythm...

La-Da Da-Da Da Da
Before the fainting Mr. Greeze
Performs his famous surgeries -
Ladies in the front row all remove their hats.

They curse like whales
And spend time spitting gales
Because the carelessness of tongue extensions
in this day and age
Are such a heavy burden on the brain.

Call the Doctors of the Gallows
They’ll take the blame for everything that’s gone alright
Since the Censor’s hairy sight
Proclaimed it the miracle they promised it would be.

Now promises are all that they could need.