(Composição: Dean Ween) Let's begin With the past in front And all the things You really don't care about now It'd be exactly where I'm at And to think You got a grip Look at yourself Your lips are like two flaps of fat They go front and back and flappity flap I'm all staged It's all an act I'm really scared that I may fall back on the abstract It'd be exactly where I'm at If you're to be The roaming eye Pry it open and let me tell you why it sees The harsh realities
