Profits of Doom Songtext - Clutch

Profits of Doom - Clutch

Born with a moustache and a supernova, tossed off the cliffs of Dover.
Washed up on a far away shore in the arms of the daughter of the Buffalo
Mamma said he was the chosen one. Reverend said he was the other one.
All that pay no mind inside his Econoline.

Swallower of Planets, the profits of doom
Quarterly projections, the profits of doom
A caliph, rabbi, and a bishop walk into a bar
One says to the other
“Hey now brother, we haven’t gotten very far.”
Who’s the writing? John the Revelator
He wrote the Book of the 7th Seal.

Swallower of Planets, the profits of doom
Quarterly projections, the profits of doom
Genesis and Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers
Gideon is knocking in your hotel while you slumber
Swallower of Planets, the profits of doom
Never trust the white man driving the black van
He’s just saving all his voodoo for you
Just for you

Never trust the white man driving the black van
He’s just saving all his voodoo for you
Just for you


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