How Does It Feel
This old time radio program was originally aired live long before the advent of high fiedelity. As a result you may an occasional surface noise or volume drop due to transmission problems so common with old radio. We hope however that andy variants in audio quality will not take away from your pleasure in listening to this one of your old time favorites.... (Chorus) How does it feel to be you, how does it feel to feel the way you do, it's so decisive, and I don't care if you hate me, cuz I know you muthafuckas are about to underrate me. Lookin through your window as a lightning bolt strikes the ground, wind blowing through the trees making irritating sounds, like the voice in the back of my head when I'm immune, to the confines of Dracula's tomb, 9th rate man made Nosferata, child of the night sending shock through your body, fatter than Poveratti, speak softly or back up off me, feline before I gaze in your eyes and blow your mind, sickness is what I depicted, is ordered and evicted, frequently described as being Twiztid or wicked, predicted many sights seen happening to lives, perform on the daily in diguise, sinister, tell the minister to bless my mind and soul, momma made me, mind broken and outta control, smash the remote control through the television screen, blame it on the movie or the dream its all the same, mind games, little prodigies paralyzed, swollen little brains mesmorized, then he dies, in a world left alone with hate, body rots away while his mind incubates, (Chorus) you lable me an underground skitsophrenic, know on the planet for 2 things, talkin shit and automatic, mind gets transfered in the little walks through the woods, bury you alive if I could, Robin through the hood with a body in my trunk, unidentified cuz hes known as a chump, I hear him keep talkin junk in my ear, but no one else can hear, lookin around and I'm feelin weird, palms are sweaty and I'm about to black out, Last chance but nothing could stop this Twiztid sprout, I'm all about mad cussin, fuck you and the red Martian, peon wrekcin and skull crushing, turning bitches to dust and when I recite you folks die, like a creep in the night I let your soul fly, so high that I never touch the ground, I make it so your body's never found, another unslolved mystery, lookin for an unknown somebody, every single night on TV try to get me to see, my eyes closed and rolled back, holdin a thought deep in my mind about a car jack, another break down in the middle of the street, people just keep mving their feet, treat my like a freak so how am I supposed to act, so when you see me mother fucker be prepared for an axe (Chorus) we're going vampire hunting with a 9 MM our souls are blessed by Mary Magdalene and Saint Peter, eat a bit of flesh but I call it a host, am I dead alive or just a ghost, comatose midrange, 2 dollars and some change, hoping picturing sanity but feelin insane, got a migrane headache, my stomache hurts...