Holy Moly

We'll bury our nerves outside the suburbs, 'cause that would be too close to home I'm just no fun just for fun I put the "cunt" in "contrarian" And if the glass is half-full, that just means I'm not done What's wrong with you kids? Why can't you do shit without getting your hearts broken? "En garde, ennui! Je suis l'enfant terrible!" Oh, merci! I'm not your bro But sure, I'll take a bump, though You'll end up like some Peter Panhandler Folks will pinch their noses when they pass When the neighbor kids get bored they'll cover you in trash When they get drunk they'll just kick your ass Repetition bores us, abuse that thesaurus And you should probably hit a dictionary Would you believe? God has called on me to call out sick with something make believe! Delusion Every allusion to books you never read in high school You'll end up like Alexander Supertramp, dead in a van in the woods someplace You'll pick poison berries and stuff your face And shit out your last breath 'cause you had "something to say" I'm not a burnout, I am an artist These white boys are all the same They think they're so clever Like the coolest thing you could do Is say "f*ck" on a record But that's not true That's not the coolest thing you could do The coolest thing you could do Is probably say "cunt" on a record I'm not a burnout I am an artist