Lyrics And The Relatives - Regal Son

I can't tell you why
or how or where or if the weather's fair
cause I'm a regal son
I'm so fake noir
from the mouths of babes comes a deep black tar
from my inverted projectors
you can see that I'm not this man's protector
we're just killing time
with the governor's strange conjecture
drinking his wine
eating bakeries' sweet confections

in the fields of gold
where the whistling blows
a bed of onyx foam and a paper hat float
I wear many hats
I can't draw the line
my point is not fine