This is a song about "Phrases and clauses"

You feel it from your head to your toes

Riddles and jokes and scary crows

Patron black, uh, patron jones

And nasty remains and bones

My raincoat, and gold wrappers, amen

And get it again and again

And some strawberries and some chocolate

Aye jay, 8 grand skins gonna take that

Blood and cuts, ifs and buts

Or closed casket for our troubles

Thunder and clouds amaze and peer

Unable to think clear

Sanyo, and handheld and handgun

Come get some, you little bum

Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold