You soft-soap the soft-shelled
The porous morons like me
And you're not sorry

Piece of cake to shake off principles
Hard-won scruples
And pretty virtue

Crushed into the bottom
Of mud-yellow sand like a slippershell
Chrome
Like phosphorescent teeth
In mud-yellow skin
You're a slippershell
And you can go to hell

Hard water down your throat
Down your back
Hard to say it's hard luck
When you're so happy

Hard to say it's hard luck
When you had it coming

Crushed into the bottom
Of mud-yellow sand like a slippershell
Chrome-like phosphorescent teeth
In mud-yellow skin
You're a slippershell
And you can go to hell
Maybe see me there

Can't you see it's a white-out
Made of chrome?
Can't you see the white-out?
It's why I piss and moan
It's why I can't go home

Wallet full of fat
Belly full of milk
You're touchingly, deeply fulfilled
You're very old
You're very new
You're touchingly, deeply confused
Can't you see the white-out?

No
I guess you don't