Hauntology (Franco the Astronaut)

Cyanide and canned cane crucifix the liminal space mixin' All the melancholy and man... Fake futurism has haunted and Derrida's ghost's out here flaunting All of the structural steel that he can I don't feel like worrying anymore Don't hit your ass on my old screen door Silver quick like quips call and answer, twice as nice with stars as of cancer, Grappa grit and gasoline cocktails Wring the rag out and you wonder is it bliss or is it more blunder But givin'em quarter is getting awful stale Dont worry about me I promise I'm happy Barcelona space rocket piston, kerosine and dynamite missin, Yeah man I got it we know the type Fond of all the fairweather promise, cross his heart and swear to god honest I ant falling for one more lie Let him get one foot inside the door We'll show him what fascists are good for Mellow midnight mixing up handle, yellow cake and roman candles Fission fixes all of it so I hear Uranium rods and holler faster cherenkov in the water Just in time for the next geophysic year Relaxing in my supersonic jet Meeting all the folks I've never met Dont worry about it babe It's all union made