Pile The Soft Hands Of Stephen Miller Lyrics


The Soft Hands Of Stephen Miller by Pile

From a long line of translucent lizards comes our boy Stephen
That inferiority complex passed down generations
Bleakness, resilient and with teeth
Best of his class
Worked so hard to lay her over
Worthlessness
Shift past shell
Spotlight changes
Subject fraud
His impotence
Stephen, tell me 'bout your great grandmother
So help
Help
Help
Help
Help

It doesn't fear professionally
We're all railing against oblivion, Steve
You don't have to be so vile, insufferable about it
You don't have to be such a delicate guy
Don't know hell
Hell
Hell
Hell
Don't know hell

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