Idiot Pilot

Call it what you will,
If pressed and pressed again
Then something surely spills.
Who cleans and who forgets?
It’s hard to tell if I am well.
These spinning lights are disco hell.
It’s not an axe you have to lift,
It’s not a load that you can split.
It’s not an axe you have to lift to lift to lift.
It’s not an axe you have to lift,
It’s not a load that you can split.
It’s not an axe you have to lift to lift to lift.
Pressure combusting,
Aligned in redded growth
We’ll choke, we’ll choke.