Sidewinder - Tomahawk

I consume everything the world shoves in my face

I drink, I eat, I live it

And it is not my choice

No more crack in voice, yeah

Unicorns and trolley cars

Blank checks and dollar cards

Get your nuts out of your bank account

The hunt is on

(The hunt is on, the hunt is on, the hunt is on)

You shoot a grenade

Out of your flames

Like a bubble from a clogged drain

Variety is the spice of death

And I can not do strain

Like a fat man on a plane

Well, there’s no trust fund kids

Can’t find the money kin

On the lips of the stone wind

Stand in line like cows

I repeat, stand in line like cows

And snort like fuckin' sows

Remember, boss, remember

The world go 'round for the both of us

The both of us

Well, it’s a seventh inning stretch, huh?

Stand up, stretch it out

Cut me like a bonesaw

It’s an unwritten law

And the world still goes 'round for the both of us

Aw, for the both of us