Thin Thing lyrics

Down a rabbit hole We go As the flames grow higher For unbelievers Making mushrooms out of men ‘Till she turns us back again To a face of solid gold Solid gold Sycophantic fawners In double quick-time The beginning at the end ‘Till she turns us back again First she'll pull your fingers off And then she'll pull your toes And then she'll steal the photos from your phone (But you won't notice) Our echo doesn’t hear us Anymore Hanging on a cloth edge By its fingers Making mushrooms out of men That’s okay I guess if you like this kind of, kind of thing This kinda thin, thin, thin, thin thing These kinda mushrooms Thеse kinda ripples Thesе kinda ripples These kinda thin, thin, thin, thin, thin thing Like this kind of thing Like this kind of thin, thin thing Like this kind of thing Like this kind of thing Like these kind of ripples