Well son of a bitch, dog gone it, the flea has flown it’s bonnet, now the flies are gathering on it, come on baby light my fire Oh Reese's Pieces Jesus, please don’t ever leave us, cuz who’ll be left to lead us to our own Private Idaho? I am your cheap thrill, your oil spill, spilled all over the Verizon bill. I am a garden variety kosher dill do you believe in life after love? I’ve got your picture in my locket and a hole in my front pocket, don’t try it till you knock it, like my dreams red gold and green. But I’m tangled in your fairy lights, and I’m snared between awkward delights, I think things might get a little weird tonight but I swear I comply with National Standards And oh my God I feel fantastic; so fucking fantastic. Rashes, fascists. We all fall down Bus-fulls of lustful pustules, hair-trigger combustible, a grape jelly Uncrustable come tiptoe through the tulips with me. I’m Mr. Spock, the cock of the walk, cock of the athletic-sock, oh up and down the city block, take me home, country roads If we sacrifice the sister, the church won’t even miss her, cuz they’ve all already kissed her in an octopus’ garden with you. A Gary Coleman impersonator was swallowed by an alligator, a professional mini-masticator, like a virgin, touched for the very first time But I’m tangled in your fairy lights, and I’m snared between awkward delights, I think things might get a little weird tonight but detailed descriptions are available upon request And oh my God I feel fantastic; So fucking fantastic .Rashes, fascists. We all fall down The belts are all re-buckling from all of the cuckolding ducklings, as the lonely, late-night trucker sings: Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me. For me. For me. And oh my God I feel fantastic; So fucking fantastic. Rashes, fascists, forty lashes, helicopter crashes, perfect matches, greener grasses, Edelweiss, Edelweiss, Edelweiss Bless my homeland forever

In the evening, the dust settles on the land I’m pickin’ out these tired chords with my rusty left hand And it’s the same old song, haunted tunes of joy, If I’m preaching to the choir, that’s just me being coy I wonder why I often feel so conflicted, isn’t that a lucky strife with which to be afflicted? Here and there I worry my family when I fall out of my boat into that great grey matter sea Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones I wish I had, a cure-all remedy, for the constant wave of debilitating insecurities And I’m a seasoned pro at jumping to conclusions, adding fuel to the fire of my basket-case delusions The city bus says that I can feel fantastic, if I save the Earth by using less plastics But my creature comforts are incriminating me, as I stand on the ocean cliffs and throw my garbage in the sea Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones Fireflies and summer storms, naps on the porch-swing when it’s unbearably warm. Gather broken pieces into an old sack, pull the drawstring tight, as it’s a long way back They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, if that’s the case I deserve an honorable mention If I could I would cut away all my rotten pieces, leaving you with something a little more decent I have no life, don’t let me stop you living yours I’m staring out of the window with an open front door, And I, I fuckin swear, one day I’ll grow a spine, forget everyone else’s backs and start focusing on mine I’m pretty sure I’ve got an anxiety disorder, but I’m pretty good at smiling, so I’m just sitting at the border Getting high on life seems to have associated fees, So I’ll just bring my bonnet if you’ll provide the bees. Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones

One of these days I’ll be castigated and fined because my interest rates have grown And one of these days I’ll be stuck with the tines of my crippling federal loans Digital currency, they’ll never see a dime; My education is becoming a crime; Maybe things will be different this time? But my interest rates have grown yet again, on my crippling federal loans But not tonight, no not tonight. One of these days they’ll knock knock at my door for my missing monthly installments And one of these days they’ll knock down my front door; Hello Corrections Department Like a marionette someone’s pulling the strings; We’ve kicked the hornet’s nest now we’re covered with stings; Our legs are broken and our arms are in slings For my missing monthly installments, hello Corrections Department One of these days I’ll be caught in the night and handcuffed in the street And one of these days I won’t be read my rights, it’s best if we keep them discreet When anonymity is being subdued, it’s too blazingly bright to be misconstrued, what happened to verisimilitude When I’m handcuffed in the street and it’s better to keep this discreet But not tonight, no not tonight. One of these days they’re gonna take me away because my money’s thicker than my blood And one of these days I’ll be shackled and chained and left face down in the mud We’re all indifferent and it’s out of control; We’re standing at the edge of an expansive hole; And in this tragedy we’ll all play a role When our money’s thicker than our blood, and we’re left face down in the mud Money’s thicker than blood down in the, money’s thicker than blood deep down in the, money’s thicker than blood way down in the Money’s thicker than blood down in the mud

The sun powers sunflowers, for silly drunken hours, the sum of our hours is years, Oh my dear , oh the fear, brings us the fear, or so I fear You call the Uhaul and I’ll dance you down the hall, if I recall it’s my turn to lead, what you need guaranteed to succeed, or secede John Stamos stayed most, most of the night last night, This house is full Oh Danny Let Me In, and Kimmy Gibler would ya teach me how to sin, they won’t bother us again I am a splinter, subzero winter, grand prize winner of a metric ton of shit Master of bastards, shitfaced disaster, dried up plaster stuck under your nails Indiscreet bites by the old streetlight, all under the sheets tonight, your favorite kite is caught up in the oaks, no jokin , did that soak-in,?, okie-doke, and holy smokes So cut out the bad parts, suture up the broken hearts, the heart of the burgundy dog is lost in the fluff and the fog, oh the hair of the dog This is the last time, the last line, our crime is so divine, the passion is a crime in itself. So dust off my old place on your bedroom shelf here’s to our health I am a hangnail, a right-wing white male, the ingrown hair infected on your ass Out of date yogurt, an itchy tee-shirt, I am Donald J. motherfuckin Trump It’s not a given you’ll be forgiven; it’s time to give in and give up. You are my moonshine my only moonshine intoxicating my whole life. You’ll never notice that your modus operandi was me. Those dorky porky yorkies, got ahold of your keys, just give me one more kees I’ll hit the road; to find the mean, median and the mode, can ya crack the code? Honeybees and sugar snap peas, sweet dreams are made of these, the sweetest dreams are in your company, Mon cheri, Cara mia, bon ami, confessedly Bussing right to the busking site, Buzz Lightyear’s wrong alright, infinity and beyond aint in the skies; this guys, disguise is wool over our eyes…eyes on the prize The very worst part, is that I’m a sweetheart, I wish that I was everything you wish I was….but I am an asshole, suburban sinkhole, I am roadkill rotting in a landfill I am a headache, I am heartache, I am a toothache too, too late.

I never thought that I’d be the one making this call to my family and now The frequency’s increased of overwhelming experiences of letting the existential panic take hold Like a stranglehold, like a stranglehold, and I’m starting to feel cold I’ve doublechecked, and yes I can add a check to my checklist of fuck ups and failures And it may come as a surprise, but I wish you wouldn’t sympathize, then again I already feel pathetic Please don’t read into this, please don’t read into this, cuz I’m sadly clinging to it And maybe one of these days, baby I’ll be okay, and I’ll get the nerve to say: My dearest Buttercup, you’ve really fucked me up, and now I’m, I'm never gonna get to be, your Westley, your Westley I’m not the type of guy to write a bitter breakup song, so just chock this up to sentimentality’s sake And I never believed in hell until your personal tour, now I walk through life with a pitchfork in my back It’s time to pick up the slack, time to pick up the slack Winston Churchill, I’ll meet you on the other side of the tracks But can we please go back to your place? Or just take me anywhere. Will you show me something special? Run your fingers through my hair? Would you follow me tomorrow? Would you follow me again? If I surfed on the waves of my sorrow, and the memories of what has been? Sorry everybody, an emotion slipped out, but don’t you worry now it’s back down deep where it belongs. Oh this photo’s out of focus and our faces distorted, have a kick@$$ summer, don’t forget to KIT I won’t BRB, I won't BRB, and now I’m LMFAO as I GTFO Finally And maybe one of these days, baby I’ll be okay, and I’ll get the nerve to say: My dearest Buttercup, you’ve really fucked me up, and now I’m never gonna be your Westley, your Westley So go ahead and listen or you’ll end up like the Sicilian Cuz I’m the Dread Pirate Roberts and I don’t have time for this kind of hurt So, Inigo Montoya, I tell ya what, he’s my boy, ya And him and my pal Fezzik Have a brand new place on the back of my white stallion

I want the fluorescent lights, for all my days and all my nights Sitting in my little room, warm and safe just like a womb So give me your pills or give me your shots, give me anything you’ve got I’ll eat your hair, and I’ll eat your nails, bring it to me in buckets and pails So hook me up to your love support, I’m fading fast fast fast , I need your love support. Stick your dirty old needle into my itchy vein and pump me full of your fluids straight into my brain I don’t need a drop-in clinic I just need you to stick some innit And I’m not too worried about an overdose, when I’m already coma-toast Is this what they mean by withdrawal, excuse me please I need to make a telephone call When I can’t have it I’m begging for more, blacked out bleeding on your kitchen floor So hook me up to your love support, I’m fading fast fast fast , I need your love support Stick your dirty old needle into my itchy vein and pump me full of your fluids straight into my brain Your love is just like heroin, although I’ve never tried any heroin But I bet it would be just like heroin, if I ever tried any heroin So hook me up to your love support, I’m fading fast fast fast , I need your love support Stick your dirty old needle into my itchy vein and pump me full of your fluids straight into my brain

It’s all good fun at the kissing booth, until you go ahead and chip your tooth, and end up looking like the Gypsy from Drag Me To Hell Cuz when you start to eat the shit of the ones producing it, you won’t have much taste for caviar While I’m not superstitious, I still make my wishes, even though wishing’s meant for the hopeful The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”, now I’m taking advice from a confectionery treat But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? There’s a scar on my brain, from every demon that I’ve slain, what are my options when the demon’s in you? So I wake myself in the night, to make sure I’m still alive, I take my pulse, it’s at a comfortable one thousand And I might be naïve, wear my heart out on my sleeve, but I’ve always been a stupid romantic I’ll stick my fingers in my ears, ignore the salty taste of my tears, I’ll close my eyes and imagine the sunnier side But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? The words in my journal are turning me nocturnal; the words are tattooed upon my eyelids. This place used to be a place of comfort and familiarity, but where’s the comfort when you’re balls-deep in quicksand? So I’ll pack up my car, disappear some place real far, but the soured milk of paradise follows The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”, Well at least I’ve got a cookie While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to run While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to go be the one in the sun