2009-07-21
Buckeye
Turn on all the lights and punch them out All four burners going, pile it on fire Metal sparks in the nuclear box Fist through a window pane And our broken coffee cups litter the kitchen floor Smoke rolling across the ceiling s*ck down the bride's champagne And swallow a few more sleepy ones Pa*s the bottle to none and swing from the gate Speak in the name of suffering as loud as it gets Knuckled holes in everything spittle And love fling into a crying eye that runs away A dead dog in the street nothing brings a slain king back You'll never know the bittersweet smell Of leaving this world of your own volition, so jacked up