Maybe better you than me
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You’re much weaker, you’re more clumsy
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When I forfeit my patience to you
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So maybe you’ve had too much wine
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Piggy’s flushed up ankles swell up as my lady works the room
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“Your sideburns always smell like sex”
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Little sister, your big brother, “the fuck” won’t be smothering you
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Or calling to his friends back east
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“Oh my hostess, oh my pick up, oh my dreadful… my white slave”
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Let them die while some decent music plays
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With my shit shoe stumbles that’s me dirty nails and awful thoughts
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I’ll use the words used up on commercials
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Like such sharp boys like to write songs, music and quick lines
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This feeling I can’t confine that to a rhyme
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But maybe I can when I see you on the other side
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See you on the other side where we would be released
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I’d sell out everything if I could find such peace
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See you on the other side where we would be released
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I’d sell out everyone if I could find such peace
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I will be free
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-----------------
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Dying With Decent Music
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| The Paper Chase |
