Phish
"Grind"


Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind

I can bend in sixty-eight ways
I have lived for twelve thousand days
Twenty-eight teeth inside my head
Grind three types of things and I'm sad that they're dead

Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind