I’ve been meaning to clear something up for some time now.
It’s a little matter of nomenclature.
Every time some caveman motorist screams from his lifted truck,
or some such endearing expletive
and then screams off to the sports bar or whatever,
I never have time to make my rebuttal,
I’m not a hipster, I’m a dandy.
I can see how your feeble, just barely functioning minds
might get confused on the matter.
After all, anybody with a style,
that’s not sagging shorts and crooked caps and Metal Mulisha
and therefore fair game
for your limited intellect
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Everybody hates their lives, they hate their lives, said oh no
I don’t wanna hate my life, wanna hate my life, said oh no
Everybody winds up dead, they wind up dead, said oh no
I don’t wanna wind up dead, wanna wind up dead, said oh no
Everybody goes to hell, they go to hell, said oh no
I don’t wanna go to hell, wanna go to hell, said oh no
A song for when the times are rough
A wrong, a million rights are not enough
A malediction for the menace
A benediction said for balance