The Planet Of Straw Men - Tropical Fuck Storm

It’s got some Looney Tunes biology

The planet of straw men

Their only purpose is to disagree

And do it publicly, amen

They’re always going for the coup de grâce

They think they’re gonna fuck a movie star

But all paths lead to nowhere

And it all adds up to nothing

It radiates more of a loneliness

Than it does a visible light

But it’s a beacon to the cosmonaut

A weekend to the taikonauts, alright

And then Beijing sends her diplomats

And then the Kremlin sets their wiretaps

And they send a probe to mine the gold

On the planet of straw men

Don’t hate the player, hate the game, right?

Don’t hate the singer, hate the song

But don’t go saying that to the straw men

Or to their rubble kings, King Kong

They want the glory of the coup de grâce

A mating ritual or a courtship dance

But all paths lead to nowhere

And it all adds up to nothing

You’ll be picking Chinese cotton on the moon soon

On the planet of straw men

And you’ll be buried in an egg then disinterred, I’ve heard

And made to do it all again

Up on the surface, it’s a charcoal roast

There’s ruined temples in the undergrowth

And strange insects chirping

With all the rancour of a coliseum

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

On the planet of straw men

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

On the planet of straw men

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

On the planet of straw men

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

On the planet of straw men

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce

They want the glory of a coup de grâce