Well Ive been moved in a week this Thursday but i havent slept so great My old blinds dont fit nine windows and Im baking shy of eight But Ill sweat the bed, my friend, because the rent is cheap as hell at the old Taco Bell My toes stay froze in winter but shed decked in stainless steel I remember rinsing off the week on Friday with a meal Before dining out was hiding my addiction to new belts at the old Taco Bell You wont find me undercover of whatever magazine I got no shower and my roofs imbued with bygone shades of green When I lock my front door its four sixteenpenny nails in the old Taco Bell They gather the symphony down the bypass once a year In the churchyard where white women sip white wine and pine to cheer They played this Bela Bartok that sent the whole lot running pale to the old Taco Bell They battened down my glass door, ripped the counter for a shield In fear of what fine silver made the sword the Lord would wield For bowing to the Boredom, driving up the Devils sales at the old Taco Bell But Jesus, sipping some ice water, said Hey, could you guys spare some room to melt my sword of silver down to one big tablespoon? He fattened us on laughter, after that he snagged a gale from the old Taco Bell
taco, bell, old, sword, bartok