Van Gogh

Each morning I wake up and have a smoke Feed my shopping addiction then remember I'm broke Jump in the shower then it's all downhill Another stupid day for a quota to fill And I pray I don't wake up Just hit me with your truck And I always manage to lose something Yesterday my phone and today my keys Work another new job seething through my teeth Get a little bit of cancer from the California heat Each day I'm half asleep At night the thoughts repeat You're a loser, an idiot, a worn out whore People wouldn't buy you at a discount store All your friends have been lying to you And they're secretly replacing you with somebody new Your dreams won't come true And no one believes in you Oh yeah That's right Uh huh That's right Babe I'm like Van Gogh I'll die before You know My name And you know I probably can't have any kids 'Cause estradiol killed all my testicle squids So these stupid little songs I made in my head Will be all that's left when I've joined the dead And I'm hoping after that day When I'm gone some people can say "Hey this girl she had some pretty good tunes I really like that album calling all balloons It's a shame that we never got see her live Cause she developed diabetes and she probably died" And I try to mentally prepare To die in financial despair While I stare in awe at my artistic friends And watch as their careers slowly start to ascend And They're making connections all over L.A. With a confidence I couldn't even try to convey In the land of milk and honey I'm allergic to making money Oh yeah That's right Uh huh That's right Babe I'm like Van Gogh I'll die before You know My name