Colonize the Moon - Busdriver, Pegasus Warning

I threw my hands in the heavens, I own what I touch

This world’s big enough for the both of us, but for me it’s not enough

So I gotta colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah

So I gotta colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah

If you were here for the last song about world leaders and street fashion

We bent the truth quite a bit, and would like to announce the following

redactions

First, my homie didn’t die violently but he died of laughter

Binge drinking on diet Shasta

He slipped and fell down the fire ladder, but why does that matter

Second, I don’t make money like an NFL runningback

If I could really turn a jack-o-lantern into a sports car

Why’s my driveway look like a pumpkin patch

Third, I’m not that leftist

I ditched that ultraviolet lambast

With a code of silence that co-pilots militarized unmanned craft

And fourth, your hair fuels life

'Til the moral standards became puree paste

Could’ve stripped us open with?

to the cavalcade’s birthday cakes

And fifth, I don’t think the country’s run by blackened hellions

My business practices are Machiavellian

And a room for my throne of jagged skeleton

And six, I do recruiter overreaching my locals on every Mars rover

With QR codes for card-holders and product placement where your charted lobes

were

And seventh, I can’t agree with philanthropy of tycoons

Cause this money ain’t made for saving children

It’s to help me colonize the moon

So I gotta colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah

So I gotta colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah

If you were here for the last song about world leaders and street fashion

We bent the truth like so, and would like to announce the following redactions

First, I think all your primitive poises are a pantomime’s slow wank

That’s why I greet 'em all with «atta boy», just a data point in the phone bank

Second, I do want your idea of new success to be crude at best

So when you hit those pratfalls insured by past laws

It won’t be something even you can detect

Third, I do admit that sexual appetites conflict with ambition

But it’s important that my life resemble Pimp C fan fiction

And fourth, I can assume the standing of finger point at an unfaithful man

When I’m a dog who feeds on excess that needs to express his anal gland

And fifth, I had to withhold

I never sniffed or sold a spec of coca

I’d be quarantined like I broke a fever

Or like a bloated diva with a leather boa

And six, our social fabric’s been woven into some crazy polymer

With men in blue flannels and red flannels cooing death rattles through a baby

monitor

And seventh, I can’t agree with philanthropy of tycoons

Cause this money ain’t made for saving children

It’s to help me colonize the moon

All have done and all I’ve seen

Who cares about you

What else could I be

After all I’ve done and all I’ve seen

Who cares about you

What else could I be

So I gotta colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah

So I gotta colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon

Colonize the moon, colonize the moon, yeah