I've been habitually rubbing the sleep from my eyes,
I see the rain does not respect state lines, why should you?
And I've seen dirt dry fires arise by p****** boy fountain statues
And they say electricity, can travel up your p*** stream
Oh am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?
Out of every woman on earth, who will I mate with?
Or will I spit empty threats, until all that's left, is a million zeros printed on a roll of ticker-tape?
And one last echo of the final tiny wave in my wake?
Will all my unused seed collect like mercury, in some kind of afterlife for halves?
Should I offer up my lats and pecs as stakes in death?
Whatever the will of the people shall be, Ohio and me
But am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?
Oh I'd rest in peace on a freshly cleaned and steamed plush carpet for sure,
In the vacant third floor of a department store
Or be hung with four nails on the projection wall
In an empty convention center banquet hall
That's right, I'm like everybody else is
Ashamed of sleep, I lie when a phone call wakes me
Oh am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?
I see the rain does not respect state lines, why should you?
And I've seen dirt dry fires arise by p****** boy fountain statues
And they say electricity, can travel up your p*** stream
Oh am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?
Out of every woman on earth, who will I mate with?
Or will I spit empty threats, until all that's left, is a million zeros printed on a roll of ticker-tape?
And one last echo of the final tiny wave in my wake?
Will all my unused seed collect like mercury, in some kind of afterlife for halves?
Should I offer up my lats and pecs as stakes in death?
Whatever the will of the people shall be, Ohio and me
But am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?
Oh I'd rest in peace on a freshly cleaned and steamed plush carpet for sure,
In the vacant third floor of a department store
Or be hung with four nails on the projection wall
In an empty convention center banquet hall
That's right, I'm like everybody else is
Ashamed of sleep, I lie when a phone call wakes me
Oh am I too concerned with the burn of scrutiny?
Cold chased on run and covered like a horse before the race
Will I gain weight in later life?
And when will someone swing a scythe against me?