the adam fox party poem

[throat_punch]

Wake up just before the street lights
in the mirror a reminder of the previous nights
crisp pair of dickies and I’m out the door
cigarette in my mouth and my tennis shoes torn
climb into the van and i turn the key
me and the silver bullet always tend to agree
swing around 49th to pick up the Fox
the only candidate for mayor with no ballot box
rocking aviator glasses and a maverick shirt
poisons running through his body like his name was Kurt
radio playing, never get too verbal
me and the Fox looking to get herbal
park the van a little down the block
open up the case and tap the beer from the top
walk into the house don’t recall anyone
no need to keep things quiet when their parents are gone
if your looking for green, talk to Brian O
the big fucker dressed in iron maiden clothes
tell the Fox to open up his bag of tricks
take out the bang and well start getting lit
over stay our welcome until 3 or 4
untill the bitches at the party dont want us there no more
hop in the silver bullet and step on the gas
the Fox; the only one that got any ass