I may not be high fashion,
but I’m fetching in faded denim
and sing with a passion.
I may not live in a mansion
but I got chat like your Nani
and I fill out my man skin.
So I throw my hat in the ring
worm trap and pass go.
It’s a thing you chew and
chew but never swallow.
It’s narrow
and shallow.
At home I live with a question,
but I’m bold as the ocean
when I’m out on a mission.
Tension, release and tension.
Endless Arkanoid, a life
devoid of dimension.
But six week stretches of
lecherous glances
have led much wiser
ones than me to plunge
once in the sea of any
stranger who passes.
Oh, it ain’t what I need at all,
but you said not to call,
and in my grief,
it feels like relief
until tomorrow.
No, it ain’t what I need at all.
It’s leading my clearness on
to move improperly.
It’s throwing my forces off.
I may not be high fashion,
but I showered at the Sheraton,
my socks are matching.
Gum gut gizzards of
the man of the actions.
In the club trying to talk over
the music that’s blasting.
Get your best local dish,
already finished the rations.
Imbiss of the penis,
man, the damage is lasting.
You’re better for fasting.
Yeah, it ain’t what I need at all,
but you said please don’t call,
and in my grief,
it feels like relief
until tomorrow.
No, it ain’t what I need at all.
It’s leading the clearness on
to act so carelessly.
It’s throwing my forces off.
Mile tall wall.
Sin imperial.
I may not be high fashion
but I’m disarming in horn rim
and I sing with a passion.
I may not be Ted Danson
but feel free to keep drinking
while the tickets are lasting.
Born in a tenement,
and perish no pension,
under many penny weight
of my own expansion.
*Damn son!*
Is that better than the
premise you planned on?
It ain’t what I need at all,
but you told me not to call,
and in my grief,
it feels like relief
until tomorrow.
No, it ain’t what I need at all.
It’s leading my clearness on
to push up randomly.
It’s throwing my forces off.
I built this wall.
Sin imperial.
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