Radio Apeshot

Slim came, guts out blowing like a saxophone
Chopped his boulevard turn again super lady
Heads turned down drooling bastards
In case they're never found

Radio apeshot a fool caught down
Pretend it's stone groovy, groovy
Nothing like a tin crown

Slam cocks his heat
God, it's nothing but a cap gun
Wipe those blue-dick ghosts away
More protection goose that mod squad
His minds a beauty cage
But his hands are stone gray

Can't see anything better
The colors always get in the way
Find the communique severed
Over and over again

Radio apeshot a fool caught down
Pretend it's stone groovy, groovy
Nothing like a tin crown

You have radio apeshot a fool caught down
Pretend it's stone groovy, groovy
Nothing like a tin crown