Marching on my face
|
Dancing on the grave
|
That I ain't even in
|
And pissing on my shoes
|
And fuckin my mama .. again.
|
|
And I'm choking on the fumes of a promising youth
|
That crumbled into sloppy dusty doom
|
once I spread my wings and flew.
|
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But if it smells like shit
|
And it looks like shit
|
Then my friend you can bet that we'd get rich off it
|
You can dream it
|
You can wrap it up and give it to the girl you've been loving
|
Or just thinking about fucking and baby
|
Ohhh!
|
It's a crazy fucking world.
|
|
So the healthy white baby to the trench coat moms
|
Said the healthy white baby what else do you got?
|
Said the negro boy with his heart outside
|
And that filthy cock sucker that passed out getting high
|
I drive all night and you'll never pull me over
|
Even though I'm always high
|
You won't like me when I'm sober
|
'Cause I just check my phone and sigh
|
Over and over and over and over and over and over'
|
|
And I wanna pound bricks on a night like this
|
When I'm a hundred miles or so from where I should have been
|
I got nothing but time to kill so baby hop in
|
Let's go see the people, baby, that we could have been
|
These are the people, baby, that we could have been
|
These are the people that we maybe should have been.
|
|
If it smells like shit
|
And it looks like shit
|
Then there's a guy that's gonna try to put his dick in it
|
You can scream it
|
You can wrap it up and sell it to the girl you've been loving
|
Or just telling everyone you're fucking
|
And baby, oh baby
|
It's a crazy fucking world.
|
|
If you can dream it
|
You can wrap it up and sell it to the girl you've been loving
|
Or just telling everyone you're fucking when you're not really fucking her
|
Baby, it's a crazy fucking world.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Profiteers
|
| Lawrence Arms |
