Pat-trip Dispenser Lyrics
He moves slow at the petrol stopIt’s pat the trip dispenserHe came with solvent in his hairThe trip dispenserSpine-fuhrer of hobokenIt’s pat the trip dispenserFriend of syndicate of soundPigeon toed bandMcginty thought he could fool the fallWith his imitation speedsBut he had not accounted for the psychic noseHe did not know there are no big shots on the rockAnd even if there were, mcginty would not be among themHis head was full of icy calmA clarity of nothingIt’s pat the trip dispenserHe paid at the generic supermarketWith paperWith paperIt’s pat the trip dispenser
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