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lyrics

Feel better now? Yeah, I think so. About as good as a radio in the bathtub. No soap. Pay attention. Get your socks on, get your rocks off. Rhyme a thousand times, it won't change a thing. I vote that you vote, okay? I'm the big kahuna of words, and let me tell you, there's no trophy. Not even a ribbon. Maybe a big black one, ribbed for her pleasure, to be delivered at your doorstep first thing in the morning. Bells and whistles, no anonymity. How about a fragile sense of urgency? How about you take me out back and put one right between my eyes? I'd rather shoot my y's instead, I never capitalize them anyway. Scratch 'em out the best you can while you try to figure out where it all went wrong. If you need a slice of life then slice your wife but don't expect her to lend you a hand. What did I just say? Forget about it. You know I used to be afraid of guys with lanyards, but if I wanted to beat someone over the head with a clipboard, I knew where to go. The rats above the tile. I'm on first-name basis with a couple of them. Anyone named Tyler or Derek is going down, I'll tell you that much. Not in my community. I think I'll grow a vegetable garden. Throw my comatose uncle Stu in there, too. Real nice guy, I think you'd like him.

credits

from Can't Date a Flannel Dilettante, released December 3, 2017

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Jeremy Vagrant College Park, Maryland

Bum dropout, preemptive surname, shallots, scamps, jubilee

Formerly of Malaise. I write and record stories and things like that

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