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All the words in my mouth that the scene deemed |
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Unworthy of letting out banded together |
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To form a makeshift militia and burrowed |
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Bloodily through my tongue and my teeth |
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I stood proud in the gallery |
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With my open socket of a mouth for them to see |
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They all just laughed and said |
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"That boy , he, that boy's got woe, he lives with woe" |
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(Woe, woe) |
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And this girl who I met whose pride makes her hard to forget |
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She took pity on me but most likely because of my band |
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(Horizontally, hey) |
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It's all I can get when I'm lonely |
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And these visions of death seem to own me |
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In the quiet of the classrooms all across the stacked United States of Woe |
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We live with woe |
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She said, "I can't get laid in this town without these pointy fucking shoes |
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My feet are so black and blue and so are you" |
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Please take me out of my body up through the palm trees |
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To smell California in sweet hypocrisy floating |
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My senses surround my body, |
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I wake my nose to smell that ocean burn |
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So now I'm forging ahead past all the plutocrats who sold me out |
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Go sob in your bed, if life is twice as pretty |
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Once you're dead then send me a card |
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I'm still the optimist though it is hard |
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When all you want to be is in a dream |
