Will Wood & The Tapeworms – 6up 5oh Copout Lyrics

Maybe plead insane, guilty, but I’m not to blame! Slash n’ burn, crash into the 42nd answer,
All my fellow skeletons adore the army ants here. Open on the amazon, hide the cure for cancer. ”
Only one thing comes to those who wait. Oh please, let me go! I won’t know till I’m under arrest. Committed to the mental ward, committing all the crimes. What you say’s at least 1/6
Billionth true. Am I being detained? My death come swiftly and gently to you. Cockin’ guns, lockin’ up, the quotas all for shock n’ awe. Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Please police- is it a test? You bare a striking resemblance. Crazy f*ckers’ gotta do the time. Six-up, five-oh, pigs come, I cop n’ go. I’m alive and kickin’ till the split ends fray. Rock n’ roll gatherin’ the moss till I be that lichen-coated boulder,
Make you slip,
Bust your kneecap! Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! Yes or no options don’t weigh out and so; I don’t ever see the cons and
The pros. Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. Some think punk’s dead, me I don’t believe that. Is it too late to embrace your
Fate? You appear familiar dear. You look just like my bathroom mirror. I’m Lance Armstrong, you’re the necromancer. Junkie’s gonna relapse. Mayhem, cry mayday, and oncoming doom. The blotter shows they got me on the rocks like Galapagos. Flies on my eyeballs, scabs on my elbows. You appear familiar dear. I’m a slave to the main vein, sprayin’ on the mainframe. Oh please, let me go! Read me my rights please. They shoulda fried me, I’ll give
Ya PTSD
Vodka shots droppin’ down the throat they been stompin’ on. Drivin’s tirin’, and I been hot-wirin’ to make my get away from the
Jailbreak riot and
Cellmates scrapin’ upon the bricks in the basement,
Tryin’ to escape this probation generation- too late! Suffering the infrastructure, hoping I can maintain! Oh how I know how I go how I go. I won’t know till I’m under arrest. Please police- is it a test? Please police- is it a test? Save your convictions, they never will do. Ask me a question the answer I know. Am I under arrest? You bare a striking resemblance. Heaven knows God’s sittin’ up there like “Hell no! Good luck finding critters creepy as me. You look just like my bathroom mirror. Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. I want my phone call. The drunk-tank’s blood red. I won’t know till I’m under arrest.