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Lucy Peaupaux

de Royal Trux

L-U-C-Y, skin flint, so high
Spot five cent for destiny, hooked in nipple tight
She got a hot hard goblin of my love
[Ching-chang double fries]
Bust up crank tank knife and missle
Blue sky drunk beneath fine-toothed chisel

We can't be seen together
Just in case the cops go queer
Rat old radio, take me home
My eyeholes are burning to get you alone

Turning from visions of heat
Twisting pins in her meat
I take it all back
Shit hit me, she Lucy Peaupaux
So cracked, and we keep living bad dreams
Here's dear Lucy Delight, oh why?
Fat and juicy child, Ms. Lucy, fever ain't right
Once upon a Louisiana exocism trip
Strung out beef, hung and spit
Pappy Legato illuminated your brain
The three inner priests of American shame:
Benjamin, Dixon, and Small Jerk Sweet
Orchestrated the millenial tyranny treat
Could not satisy a confusion so deep
Old wisdom triumphant despite that beneath
Her eyes are clouded, eyes are locked
Receptive to justice from a generous hock
Lucy Peauupaux, they want you so bad
Lucy wears a weapon, Lucy is your dad
Lucy is a pussy, Lucy ain't a fag
Coming hard times, she's something you never had

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