Pen to paper
Blank cheque; Vegas
I’m done waitin’
“My son?” Maybe.
You thought that I was down and out
You thought we would without a doubt
Snow white, whiplassshhh
Drive-through, Cadilac

Altar. Lip pout
One hint: I’m down
Mem’ry not found.
Flashback, knock out.
Smoking hot boys, that’s the game
Skyway lights look all the same
Head’s round-a-bout
Card>In. Cash>Out.

I’ve been alone for days, human interaction’s all I crave
So I walk the streets at an easy pace. It never ceases to amaze.
Kick back, on ignition. A roller-blading psycho on a mission
Pink tats, backstab premonition
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture

Sunlight, late night
Hashtag #allrise
Crash-land, heartburn.
Just one more turn.
I dip and dab and double E, do
Lights they turn to liquid and just one becomes a few
Kick’d out, seatbelt
Key’s in, cards dealt

I’ve been alone for days, human interaction’s all I crave
So I walk the streets at an easy pace. It never ceases to amaze.
Kick back, on ignition. A roller-blading psycho on a mission
Pink tats, backstab premonition
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture
Listen you motherfucker, don’t you take my picture

Well I was moving
round about a hundred eighty k’s or maybe more
And the windows couldn’t close and
the lights, they all were broke
black smoke rose from my tailpipe into the day
Oh yeah

And 'cause the steering’s misaligned and the
road ain’t owned by a mine a pothole comes a
rushing up saying hi and the
bastard tips me over
So while I’m upside-down and every
thing is moving slowly and I
know that’s not the codeine
that sends me back
Oh yeah

I think it’s kind of funny and I
hope you think it’s funny too
That I loved to call myself a libertarian
And as the car begins to roll
My glovebox breaks and opens
And out of all the thoughts I had this one was the most glaring in.
That that is the last drink I’d ever own
and now it’s wasted, so wasted, on the road
joining with my bumpers, shattered windows, la dommage
I remember weakly "I have son" as my head hits the windscreen
Boom, then I’m gone and the last thought I'd ever dully conceive of was
How am I gonna pay for this?

Oh yeah