We grow tomatoes, heirlooms and beefsteaks
Blobby shapes with spillin' guts
Daddy says there's nothing better than a good 'mater
One could reason nothing's worse than a bad one
Blobby shapes with spillin' guts
Daddy says there's nothing better than a good 'mater
One could reason nothing's worse than a bad one
In the nursing home, he feeds them to his granny
They try to feed her slop, but we bring our contraband fruit
Cut with the knife from his cargo shorts,
Rough pieces with dirty hands, brought to her wrinkled lips
Bet they tasted like decades passed, like they were grown
Cut with the knife from his cargo shorts,
Rough pieces with dirty hands, brought to her wrinkled lips
Bet they tasted like decades passed, like they were grown
From the same seeds as her old plants, passed down the vine
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