| i'm not a ladies man, i'm a landmine filming my own fake death under an '88 cavalier i go but-but-but-but nothing but the rear bumper's blown but i's born for this flight, united 955 on the fifth of july back the SFO i join the dark side in a thin disguise caught on consumer grade video at the height faking suicide for applause in the food courts of malls and cursing racing horses on church steps playing the wall at singles bingo all time gringo did anyone hear me cry there through a toilet stall divider i swear i care. i am an example of a calculated birth to a star chart for clowns, im not under robins' eggs in a nest, you hit a manilla envelope with one last little robins' egg in it; a hollow bullet yet spent. subject to dismissal i wish all my pitfalls could be called by this call: cheery-a cheery-e cheery-i cheery-o cheery-u |
