Apologies to Timothy Leary and the Moody Blues. Legend of a (sick) Mind
Mr. Max Hardcore's dead.
No, no no no, he's doing time, looking trim.
Mr. Max Hardcore's dead.
No, no no no, he's doing time, looking trim.
He'll throat ‘em ‘till they’re insane,
Worth a trip, well Jeff, OK,
Gag Factor started that way,
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore's dead.
No, no no no, he's doing time, looking trim.
Mr. Max Hardcore's dead.
No, no no no, he's doing time, looking trim.
He'll throat ‘em ‘till they’re insane,
Worth a trip, well Jeff, OK,
Gag Factor started that way,
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Along the coast you'll hear them boast
About a light they say he shines up rears.
So fuck her ass, she'll drink a toast
To the pissing man who’s sold us fantasies for years.
He'll bring lunch up, he'll send cum down,
He'll plant them on a yellow couch upside down.
He flies so high, they stoop so low,
He knows exactly which way it's gonna go.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
He'll bring lunch up, he'll send cum down,
He'll plant them on the couch upside down.
He flies so high, they stoop so low.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
He'll throat ‘em ‘till they’re insane,
Worth a trip, well Jeff, OK,
Gag Factor started that way,
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
Mr. Max Hardcore.
-Chuck, Vegetarian fanboy
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