Well there ain't no cushions in the booths And there ain't no watch tellin the day Hittin repeat on the CD player for the six six six six six sixth time Screamin just to hear something Gone cross-eyed staring at the walls

I don't have time to do anything I don't even have time to say this Message 4 It was Halloween night, a couple years back And I got really fucked up off of some beer And a lot of liquor and some other shit And I smoked pot with this weird girl Named Misty, I think And so then I needed a ride back to the dorm So I went with this girl Megan Cuz she was going back at about that time I was lucky And I got in the car And I don't remember a damn thing Cuz I was fucked up out my mind I was totally wasted I got back to the dorm and I think I got on the internet Yeah, online And I went in some chat rooms And, yeah, that's all 4am Saturday (Hotel ice tray in a vinyl bucket, fuck it Dropping dimes for wind-up chokings Reject salad, trailer hitch soda pop Nuclear family meltdown Sound all empty Thrift store reject, trailer reject Tied up in apathy Probed to the core in a red light zone Rusting paper towel Emoting to eyes that hardly give a damn)

Is nothing sacred? There's nothing sacred Is nothing sacred? Is nothing sacred? Think I can make it if nothing's sacred Think I can make it with nothing sacred Nothing sacred There is nothing to be won by looking upon someone else as the one Ohh Is nothing sacred? If nothing's sacred think I can make it If nothing's sacred then I got no worries Nothing's sacred Pouring water on my head Oh lord

Got a mind that's got me blind Blowing time getting mine Fistward bound ultrasound Fuckin around putting down Sendin out bad vibes Stuck in the nasty Bullet shaped tongue, rapid fire Like a pawn you put me right where you want me Once again Puttin up with it Puttin up with it Migraine incarnate Dry heave alive Say it do it Vapid idiot Got a head full of hate moving down my veins Two steps from fist city Fuckin around with me Let’s rock!

Delicate, incomprehensibly aromatic Escaping, tearing her own skin Soaring through the veinscape Mysterious, fortunate erosion Metastasizing, she feeds on me I am her delicacy

Spirit!

One night, one night, one night, one night One night, one night, one night Beaten down my door Something's going to happen tonight Big machine, big group of people I know We didn't have enough time We didn't have enough time There's no excitement Unless something's changed in the past 48 hours There's no excitement Mutilated bodies hanging from trees There's no excitement All distorted faces I'd like to come back I lose track of time... I lose Made friends and talked for a while We went our separate ways We went our separate ways Did I? You tell me Walking to the garden and back through the...through the yard Past the bodies Sort of a true story And then this One night one night one night one night...

Like it Shedding sweat bullets like a sawed off gun Flying off walls in a room of one Peeling off plaster from my ceiling fan Toothpick wound in the middle of my hand Limp wet dollar laying down in a glass With a filter smoking killer jumping on my ass Broken record rocking from five to nine With a burnt out jimmy working for the wine Giving us directions Seven plain selections Liquid mind corrections I'm like damn I'm like damn I'm like damn Fishermen's net caught up in a draft Suicidal monkey hanging on the raft Detrimental can in the back of a truck Where you ask for directions and you're out of luck Silver tongued artist with the tarnish blues Road hockey hitcher with nothing to lose Cremated man in a brown ashtray You can't hit a note when you try to play Giving us directions Seven plain selections Liquid mind corrections I'm like damn, I'm like damn, I'm like damn, I'm like damn... DAMN! Whoa rock it Look at me, I'm the guy your mother hates, and that's okay

I looked at the globe, Afghanistan leaped out It looked at me, grew a mouth and started to shout It said "Hey you, quit looking at me! And while you're at it, go drown in the sea!" Uh huh... I went to the Wal-Mart, I went to the aisle I went to the clerk and I gave her a smile She talked to me nicely, she took all my cash And then she kicked me out of the store on my ass! Yeah yeah... Well I pick up this box and I pull on the strings It makes all sorts of sounds, makes me do weird things I jump around, I kick everything You want to know why? I don't know! I asked for your name, I asked for your card You told me to "go away just like God" I said "what do you mean just like God?" You said "it's true, He cares about the flowers more than he cares about you!" No no...

Yeah it's just me, as you can see I'm high again with no place I'm going Tell her I'm not there, I am nowhere And nothing's just what I want to be knowing Nothing less I could've said It's a beautiful day to be dead Lock the door, kill the feeling Now we stare at the ceiling Something I could not decide Where I've been, the devils could sell you On cold concrete we spoke our piece Now the dust speaks all I could tell you Nothing less I could've said It's a beautiful day to be dead Lock the door, kill the feeling Now we stare at the ceiling Somehow I see this goodbye Without an end, hardly a parting A different face, another place Behind the rust, the cycle's restarting

FISHIN FOR CHANGE IN A FILTHY PUBLIC PHONE... its a name with no draw and nothing to prove, filing down the clock's hands and wrapping up the dollar bills in brown paper bags / stuffing it deep down in his pockets with no expectations in the least / tell it to the careless who fly low and run into every telephone pole on the same street back and forth for years and years until their battered wings turn gray / and they sing the crows caw like its the most beautiful song fit to hack, up and down and never noticing futility as it stares em in the face full on cackling out as loud and as happy as can be / its a waste of age and a waste of youth cracked out on the breadline and praising every minute and second and hour and year and month and decade of wasted time, just living to work to exist wondering about the condition of this and that singin offkey and screamin at the top of my voice / pullin on bands of various tension and making some kind of beautiful racket / in the afternoon i found my calling and slept through it in the evening i found nothing and loved it / constant bangin on the wall at intervals of nine and seven / constant mess on the floor from three layabout thrift store rejects converging periodically and leaving a mess for me to clean up / no i dont mind i really dont / i say i'm an artist and i'm a performer and i'm a musician and they ask me what those terms mean, what gives you the right to say you're all those things? / i realize it aint worth even thinkin about if you think about it / if you think youre something then whats the difference to you if you aint and if you are music lives / art lives / america lives / for now i lives trashin my brain for a days wages / getting lost on my own street / butane and alcohol fumes all around / put a plastic bag on my head / total dimestore fashion i know how much i smoke / scissorfaced man sittin three chairs down askin for directions / even his smile looks like a sneer / wastes of time abound in the afternoon morning here / meantime i look for the entrance outside you see the world continuing as is while i see vagabonds and hoboes and all manner of folk that dont know where, just that theyre goin outside downtown / goin to rox's meat market / steppin in old broken glass on the old broken curb lovin every minute of blankness / and then the dreaming of the old days / music will die / art will die / america will die / i will die / but not today styrofoam living waits down at the dock with my name and headstone, whistling "brother can you spare a dime" / i'm whistling a tune i half-wrote with Count Basie a few years back / and the song just disappears in the breeze like every other time / and that's okay ...ABOUT THIS TIME A MAN ASKS ME IF HE COULD PLEASE USE THE PHONE