Non Sense Made Me Write This

Foxy caddillac in a motor land
Fell for a grace and received a bone
Clumsy he stood to gain a kick on the crotch
Blasè, french kisses, bad desires, lost friends

Classy crew detached a fool
Burdened an orange who rot in the trunk
Posed as if nothing happened, the motor flinched
And we stood, imprisioned at the desert

Fade the sound 'cause it's just oil
Duck who shambled thru the station
The surreal inventory of shafts and copper
I saw it, three speculators helping the fantastic recruit

I've drew a failed project of a scrambled plastic
The copydesk papers are a mes till the boss gets here
Corrsive puppies at the downward highroad are pulling some strings
To take everyone down and to make everyone frown