Backside melts into the sofa
My worldmy tvand my food
Besides listening to my belly gurgle
Ain’t much else to do
YeahI sweat a lot
Pants fall down every time I bend over
And my feet itch
Yeah — I married a scarecrow
I hate you
Talkin’ to myself
Everybody’s starin’ at me
I’m only bleedin’
Someone taps me on the shoulder every 5 minutes
Nobody speaks english anymore
Would anyone tell me if I was gettin’ stupider?
I hate you
Talkin’ to myself
You don’t feel it after awhile
You take the beating
I’m a swingin’ guy
Throw a belt over the shower curtain rod
And swing — — —
Toss me inside a hefty
And put me in the ground
A drink needs me
I don’t
I ain’t about to guzzle no tears
So kiss my ass
Newscasterscockroachesand desserts
I hate you
Talkin’ to myself
Everybody’s starin’ at me
I’m only bleedin’
Where are the kids?
Maybepregnantorondrugsoronwelfareontopoftheworlddont- thehonorrollonparoleonthedodgersonthebackofmilkcartons- onstakesinthemiddleofcornfieldsoncoversoffuturehistory- booksonoldlady’smantleswalki
Aternailedoncrosses
I think it’s time I had a talk with my kids
I’ll just tell ’em what my daddy told me
You ain’t never gonna amount to nothin’
