"I’ve got quarters taped to the lenses on my shades
so when death comes to put me in my grave I’ll know my debt is paid,
Ispso facto, God’s a fatso cat, so watch your back
‘cause I’m a hypochondriac who suffers from frequent panic attacks.
I’m pissing in jacuzzis like it’s groovy in the night light.
Lemme guess, you brought some wack jokes to the word fight, right?...

I premeditated the punch line but I’m far too crass to laugh
so now this game of balderdash will be slowly ripped in half.
I have a habit of getting rabid when people stab blindly
so now I’m taking blind stabs just to keep myself whining.
There’s no shining light, my shades are drawn like a bath of cold oatmeal,
I’m screaming at a wall trying to show you how my throat feels.
I don’t kneel before the bastards who broke me
so now I’m provoking hope, but I feel oh so fucking lonely when they quote me.

Open your eyes!

I’m eye to eye with violent beasts who try to woo me with their fists
like I’m a puny little bitch, but I will never give an inch.
Put a water gun to my head because I’m drying up and wilting.
I’m a thoroughbred loser, baby, so why don’t you do more than kill me?
Am I still myself or someone else? I ponder while I’m looking at this mirror man
eye to eye.

Life is not a Disney movie, fuck Mickey, Donald Duck, and goofy;
I didn’t cry when Bambi’s mom died, I wanted to fuck Ariel, sue me!
Life’s not a box of chocolates, Momma told me “Buckle up.
Don’t be a stupid fuck, my love, there’s no such thing as luck.”
I’m a trophy scapegoat so there is no safe vote here, friend.
I’ve got fliers from unattended shows hanging on my walls like deer heads.
My fear’s fed on impropriety and atrophied anxiety,
if these walls could talk I’m sure they’d only fucking lie to me.
I try to put every ounce of my soul into my flows,
but some say I just float like a piece of shit and sting like a broken nose.
Well, I suppose if we’re pointing out the flaws in each other’s disguises
I should inform you (that) you seem afraid to… open your eyes!

I’m eye to eye with violent beasts who try to woo me with their fists
like I’m a puny little bitch, but I will never give an inch.
Put a water gun to my head because I’m drying up and wilting.
I’m a thoroughbred loser, baby, so why don’t you do more than kill me?
Am I still myself or someone else? I ponder while I’m looking at this mirror man
eye to eye."