Dying With Decent Music

Maybe better you than me
You're much weaker, you're more clumsy
When I forget my patience to you
So maybe you've had too much wine

Piggy's flushed up, ankles swell up as my lady works the room
"Your sideburns always smell like sex"
Little sister, your big brother "The Fuck," won't be smothering you
Or calling to his friends back East

"Oh my hostess, oh my pickup, oh my dreadful...my white slave"
Let them die while some decent music plays
With my shit shoe stumbles, that's me dirty nails and awful thoughts
I'll use the words used up on commercials

Like such sharp boys like to write songs, music and quick lines
This feeling I can't confine that to a rhyme
But maybe I can when I see you on the other side
See you on the other side, we would be released

I'd sell out everything if I could find such peace
See you on the other side where we would be released
I'd sell out everyone if I could find such peace
I will be free