I like you better when you’re numb
I’m sick and tired of false devotion
Devote yourself to moving on
Or suck it up and let it go!
But you’re always out to get me…
Oh, that quiet little forked tongue
Must feel good rolling on a vile, vulgar vat
Of the purest acid, curling up like fermented spit
And dried offended blood when you
Bit down the corners of your sore cheeks,
Frustrated at the utter lack of control
And flaunting your own proudest corruption.
How cute does that look like on you?
It’s just another waste with puffed cheeks
Blotted in heliotrope, like crushed lies
And bad byes and bruised overused words
Put up to defend that pretty vague hurt,
When all it’s ever done is make it last even longer.
Blatant provocations only last as long before
The sheer amusement sets in, building up
Your own ‘sacrificing’ design of a crude collapse,
Building up the past tense because you think
It’s going to inflict, and pulling the carpet
Under your own crooked feet in the process;
Panting over your ‘headline’ exposés when
You’re already stripped like a shameful screw,
And still spinning, spinning, spinning,
Too out of balance in the wrong direction.
The more that shaky pyramid piles up,
The more I have reasons to quickly laugh at it,
And me and my company can talk about
The time we didn’t even care enough
To hear the indignant, malicious screams
Emanating from the careless night, as we were
Too busy trying to break the daylight in—
Tell us more please, don’t stop now
When I’m already fascinated by the confabulations;
Counting sins like they meant jack shit,
Counting up tallies scratched in solid copycat lines,
Counting yourself in like you even meant a thing.
But maybe don’t sit on the damn fence
Too long and just fucking get over it;
Because most of my golden verses are just not
Meant for all that assuming salivation
And some boys aren’t meant to push
Their greedy fingers into your black hole
And pleasure you deep with choking expectations.
I don’t know if the obvious attention ignites
The gasoline in those butane ribs, but
If some damage control is all there is, then just
Who the hell am I to attempt to ceasefire it?
Oh what a pity, such a pity—that all of that
Pent-up resentment just stubbornly refuses to move on
With the “sweet” in the oversaturated smile
And the venom in the secret snivels back home
Cursing out in spiteful boo-hoo’s and vindication like
The entire world did that poor, poor heart wrong…
Well fuck me, but is that really all that’s
Keeping your twisted self-indulgence going on?
You think opinions make you savvy
(Like you’re some kind of “expert”)
Your running mouth falls on deaf ears
(I tried to get you to understand)
You say you’re winning ’cause you’re laughing
(Get it all into the last time)
While I’m crying crocodile tears
Just suck it up and let it go!