Fame Throwa

Fame throwa pass out the gold, the diamond watch, the last reward

All the things we had before you sold us out and took it all

Head-borne cries from zenith sluts, astral rites from dead-end ruts

And these ends are sickened wars, and the ends were sickened wars

He's one of our nation's spies

He's one of our first recruits

I click with her leather thighs

He's one of our first recruits

How can you know? In the distance lies a grower

Named Rudolph, king fame throwa, son of groupie, bedworn sexan

Spent his cash convincing us that the desert was a starscape

Took our lives for satellites so we could cry, naked, naked, foul

He's one of our nation's spies

He's one of our first recruits

I click with her leather thighs

He's one of our first recruits