Mr. Orange — текст песни (Squirtgun)

Drain the gourd with a muddy stick
Take the body out, spit the seeds at the land. Add powder for the bomb.
Find a human trinket and explode it with this line
"I`m an arsenal in fact and now your style is mine."

Take a look. What is left?
Mob of tears and ditch of weed.
Mr. Orange you`ve grown up sad,
and now your orchard`s science blind.

Dig a hole. Jump inside. Peek out your fear.
Read about an iron hand. Pretend that he is near.
Drink a little vodka now, loosen up your brain.
Arsenals have random days, your weapons pour down rain.

Take a look. What becomes of uniforms and misery?
Mr. Orange you`ve grown up hard, and your is science blind.
Then the admonition comes.
You can`t find your fuzzy feet.
The fist that strikes you is a shard.
Mr. Orange you`re full of seeds.

You`ll be here for a thousand years
Sick and tired. A lofty fruit.
Mr. Orange you paint up nice,
and now your orchard`s still and pocked.