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My life might end up shorter than yours But it's quality, not quantity, you thimble-dicked man-whore I don't wanna tell you lies when there's nothing to disguise Just look at your life You did that! You did that! You done fucked up! Why don't you take a little jaunt to Ikea or Anthropologie Because you're living in a fucking funeral parlour All I saw is something bright as a star in the Dying ember you left inside the chamber Of the Midwest redneck church where they turned you into A man who dresses like Lurch The ties, there in your eyes, the failure I mean it when I say we're mean We're the nightmare of your daydreams We mean it when we say what we mean The nightmare of your daydreams I want to harm you Instead I'll kiss you to show you I love you and I miss you Well, fuck you So now I'll leave a dump on your shitty world Give you thump, thump, thump for my little girl You shouldn't have fucked with her, man Letras de cancionesSarcasm and sex spasms They are illusive to fools who look like you Your therapist knows you're a failure Hey, King Fucker: We mean it when we say we're mean We're gonna write about it so we don't drug about it We're gonna sing about it so we don't drunk about it We're gonna dress like teenage pimps and primp and preen about it Until we vomit, lit and sick but never green about it Armed only with lyrics one could not distinguish from the cascade of texts I inflict on boys named Chris when my wife's mom is sick But Hey, I feel shitty! I'm aging backwards she's Blanchett, she's pretty Because I had a muse but she was exposed to be some angry bro in my lady's clothes Thursday, taking out the trash to be collected I remarked to her it occurs to me that I was sub-molested Stacy's mother knows twas I who got sexted But with my influence on Stiflers, I may need to be arrested And I have royalties that need to be collected By Doghouse Records, mind you Or Vagrant Records, mind you Whichever one I was on, I can't remember Oh, fuck it This is literally the bottom of the barrel shooting for the lowest branch You're gonna hear it a lot Oh, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me That sounds like an is a Real Boy track And I'm aware of that but are you aware that I'm aware of that? Because I'm walking away, trembling Walking away but the mic cord won't reach that long And I've still got it going on After all these years I know I will never be alone Why won't you pick up that phone? Oh my god, I'm afraid to not go stiff This death-wish stiff is stiff and bored Now I'm lit like band fucking Lit I have no drink or smoke to curb the enthused of my chemical dysfunction My one chemical romance left me with one tattoo and one concussion Cascade of texts I inflict on boys named Chris Now we're like the Violent Femmes again This stage was bred to bleed attrition If it's a fiction we live I'm a fan It's fan fiction Fuck fucking fan fiction Tonight, we raise our breath and we'll live ourselves to death We all float in spinning prisons, choking on this goddamn prism But I'm swimming in a goddamn prison We are legends again, legends all again And we're going off again Those black outfits, they're slimming And I'm swimming in a goddamn prison Where we are all the same people and we all play the same role in the band I used to pray for times like this. To rhyme like this But I had to grind like that to shine like this In the back of a paddywagon, cuffs locked on wrists But it's over now So we rise From Letras Mania