This is a song about "Danging"

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

Bow your heads-i see the lines of my beaten artist hearses.

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,

Now all i want is more my little pony toys to play wit

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,

I inclined the bastard / to fight or i will use my knifes 'n' daggers