Old Toy Room (A Pie In The Window)

[Intro: Warcloud]

Lucky charms...

When it rains the flowers drip candy

To attack and spit ground...

[Chorus x2: Warcloud]

Hot apple pie, a scoop of vanilla ice cream

Shavings of white and dark chocolate melted over

Crushed up almonds and peanuts, taste

Niagara grapes, the highest in mental states

[Warcloud:]

A mosquito in the book store, dastardly tales of torment

Street corner minds and bad medicine vendors

Try to overthrow you, take the celestial railroad

Vitamins and intense oil, moist in poetry

Deep depths of gun, that's a falling of sparrows

Music from the sun, a simple art of war

Trouble is my business, vital summer observer

Evil is the victim, merchant prince of burglars

Who struck each down, snatchin' ya fake veils

Got parrots wit pterodactyl wings and snake tails

They whistle when I feed them, demons fingers and toes

Fair well my lovely, blood-curdling scenery

Chateau, Braille, Capon, an allure

Alcazar, on the balcony, dunkin' donuts in Java

Last my horizon, never sound retreat

The lost regiment, rise of the walking dead

Battle flag tattered in stain, call us windigos

Sasquatch, Yeti, battalion with one head

All devils fled, of man, they were a replica

Indians and cowboys, cops and robbers, America

Long good-bye, I'm headed towards Arabia

Persian in states, and pyramids made of ice

Milk not, gather no sand, mighty architect

Creator of all, and rest within the universe

Soon to burst, acid, rocks, flesh and silver

Never speak in questions, the scriptures of a building

[Chorus x2]

[Warcloud:]

Astronaut candy, space caramel, jelly beans

Gyms from around the world, sparkle Knights

Blue socks, fancy red shoes, shiny bottle caps

Toy chest, green and white blocks, triangle buttons

Baseball gloves, a book of picture riddles

I swing on moonshine, and a big city with fiddle

Little do they know, it'll be sunset for those

Telephone poles, dirty pistols and foes

Gun 'em down, that rough magic, sugar time

Briefcase man, sand castles and bowling pins

Barrels full of cherries, grapes and rusty nails

Steel corn chips, Spanish peanuts and dusty rail

Headin' down stone steps towards the old attic

Architect static, Pacific to the Atlantic

Arctic, Indian Ocean, black sand

Toe prints, gray sea shells, French vanilla

Seven horses, seven arrows, seven scalps

Over night delivery, sailin' the seven seas

Seven corks in champagne bottles, sit in the breeze

A bust off of which, smoke stacks and trees

Money comes from paper, smoke comes from burnin' it

Smoke stacks are made from metal found in the ground

Same as the buzz-saw, paper comes from wood

Any answer to the question's, no good, that is the hood

No friendly neighbor, set plants in animals

Cain before Abel is cannibal, understandable

[Chorus x3]

[Outro: Warcloud]

Jill got her feet cut off while she slept

Eighty eight black birds on a telephone wire

One peacock at the top

That was the house that Jack built