A figurative fractal of a human being, a denizen of a star-studded universe, a shining example of how far we've come but how little we've learned, what an asshole A monument to all the forthcoming destitute vessels who will wrestle their self-loathing and win and will grow up to raise all the taxes and dead from their graves, retrospect, what an asshole Just a face on TV telling everyone that everything's fine, if we love one another and kiss all our daughters goodnight we will end this fucking war that we've started because we're all assholes So all children of the universe, with attitude sing, "we are sick and fucking tired of promoting this thing!" All the children of the universe then hold hands and bring forth a new wave of hope, the likes of which have never been seen. You say I have changed and it's true. I've become such an asshole cause of you and I say it's okay, most of us are, it's the easiest way. When I rub my eyes, puffy and red, buzzing with flies, when you're an asshole of my size it's hard not to get shit in your eyes A tentative teen on the internet collecting pictures of peers and distributing them to all the worst places for ten fucking bit coins. What the fuck is a bitcoin, you asshole? A hive-minded mass that nothing gets past, you'd be crushed into dust if you tried so we simply comply cause we don't want to die. We're thrown into a pit full of snarling assholes. A singer/songwriter telling you all how to live when he doesn't even have an idea... of his own, just sits on his ass getting fat and complacent, and misses his basement. A waste of your time, some bullshitted rhymes haphazardly stitched up together like poorly laid plans, this sack of shit man who will never be more than this sad fucking asshole

One task, one simple mission predicated larger foes. Sinister, so sharp and so slick, one miscalculation, I'll surely regret this. A twist of fate, the white rabbit's late, the 8 ball starts to leak. A puddle forms a pitch black hole. No light gets in and it goes so deep. Bad fortune, the cracks in California finally gave way and the ocean eats it all. Tidal waves overtake LA and it's too late, yeah, they're all breathing salt What is it called when you have too much and not enough at all? With the discord always waiting on the path you've chosen, there's no true way of ever knowing if your cookies right.

Sit around the bonfire, arms at the ready, stomachs are heavy with mom's spaghetti. You're fine. Just wait. There's more on the way. Just rest your eyes and forget your mistakes. Candles are sticks. Armies betwixt! All aboard this Evil Train, it isn't a trick. The Conductor is sick so shorten the wick, burn till it's smoldering, top it off quick. There goes the tension, what's that old expression, "Don't bite off more than you can chew"? But when life gives you lemons you suck them all down because really that's all you can do. Throat full of carbon, eyes getting heavy, fire roars steady with green confetti. You're fine. Just wait. There's more on the way. The feast never ends but its hell on the waist. A sickening sedation and deeply complacent, I've had about all I can stand. A deviant treat with a cherry on top and a horrible way to kill a man.

When did all of this become a burden? What ever happened to just writing song after song about getting high? Why must every sentence reference selfish penance? Who am I trying to fool? What am I going to do? What am I going to do? What am I going to do? How is it I haven't gotten better? Are you telling me I have to make an effort? Well then, fine! I'll watch Community one more time, jerk myself off until I'm blind. The only life I'm willingly ruining is mine to ruin. Maybe I'm creating all this trouble for myself. I swear it's symptomatic of a future undefined and a past left unexplained. Hopefully this tunnel has an end. When everything is cyclical and never stops repeating you find yourself in need of an exit strategy.

Sit around the bonfire, arms at the ready, stomachs are heavy with mom's spaghetti. You're fine. Just wait. There's more on the way. Just rest your eyes. Forget your mistakes. Candles are sticks. Armies betwixt! All aboard this Evil Train, it isn't a trick. The Conductor is sick so shorten the wick, burn till it's smoldering, top it off quick. There goes the tension, what's that old expression, "Don't bite off more than you can chew"? But when life gives you lemons you suck them all down because really that's all you can do. Throat full of carbon, eyes getting heavy, fire roars steady with green confetti. Let's celebrate. There's more on the way. The feast never ends but its hell on the waist. A sickening sedation and deeply complacent, I've heard about all I can hear. A deviant treat with a cherry on top and a horrible end to a year.