Sometimes I walk around town looking at faces
wonderin why their bodies go to silly places.
Walkin past the carpet mills looking in and takin stills,
your [bad word] it draws me in like a Bermuda highway.
Oh, don't carve me out! Don't let your silly dreams,
fall in between the crack of the bed and the wall.
Two times I fell asleep in a dirty basement
snoozing in cobwebs and the cement.
Sometimes I wonder why that meek guy got all the fame,
maybe I'm to blame for his short bitter [bad word] up life