Puffer

You want a blue sky, how provincialFocus the dead eye upon the guard of the liarsKinetoscoping not to fear a thingNot anacondas under the cover of liarsPoseying in prose again, Mount Toby friends are make pretendNever offered cover model jobs outside of Factory HollowSo I'm the god of the liarsA truss construction never fears a thingLook through the onion skin under the guard of the liarsNew position minus friction, X-game starlet earns the mentionNo-way ticket trained in consent, kissing cousins' train's a-comingPuff puffNow I'm the god of the liars