Well, the pillows hold my head, God I wish that I were dead! I can't do nothing right, Can't even sleep all through the night! No I've never seen REM, Although I own a mandolin! It's the end of the world, alright, And I ain't got nothing better! I swear I wrote this song before! Wish I could close my eyes and snore! Medicated every night, Moon and stars just can't do me right! Oh, Because anxiety creeps! And text tones beep! And my mind just weeps because! Oh God, Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Let me sleep! Can't be productive, oh I wish! Had seven things due that all locked at six! Supposed to pack up and leave, Can't get tired but still have fatigue! Oh! Because anxiety creeps! My ceiling leaks! And my eyes just weep because! Oh God, Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Let me sleep! You stupid fucking piece of meat, Stuck behind my ugly face! You make me hate myself that's fine, But insomnia's where I draw the line! Got so much other shit to do, Can't waste my time medicating you! Oh GOD! Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Just let me sleep, Let me sleep!

I hope that you forget my name, And I hope That every mosquito that sucked your blood Gets a migraine, And I hope, You go to Maine (or Rhode Island) And I hope, That your tub don't drain (cuz it got too much hair in it)! I wish Upon a shooting star, I wish I never knew who you were To begin with, And I wish That the bees that sting you keep their thorns, And get to sting you again, You son of a bitch! I'm sick of being tired, And I'm tired of being sick! I'm over you, and you need to deal with it My dear! You're in the headlights now!

I'll shave eventually, If the dysphoria's gone I'll cut my hair all off, Break my mirrors and some! I'll get my skirts and fancy dresses, fish nets too, Oh, whatever makes me look pretty to you! Butler said it's all a show, Oh well okay, I must've said the name of the Scottish Play! I've cursed myself, And that's for sure! Oh I don’t know what I am Anymore! Oh! I don't know! Feeling like, A human ransom note! Went wishing for Wendy to play me a song, went Shopping for Faces, Can’t fit in this thong Oh I know how I wanna look, But I can’t stand the needles it would’ve took! I WANNA RIP MY JAWBONE OUT! Make a lamp or something, Have a prettier mouth! I just wanna feel beautiful, Or to be laid down in those soft thistles! I wanna wear a spinny dress, I wanna wear high heels downtown, I wanna find out what makeup does, I want my beard to reach down to the ground! I wish I could pick and choose my parts, Trade a singing saw for my possum heart, I wanna be what I wanna be! But I guess despite all of that, Despite everything, I'm still me! Oh God it fucking sucks, To be stuck in your own skin! And the lord and the president, Wanna tell you what you can do with it, Well I say fuck all of them! Cast your body parts aside! We can tear 'em down to pieces, Melt their bones in cyanide!

Seventeen years, We slumber below Counting the leaves, That fall with the snow Seventeen years, Oh have you forgot As we molt from the trees, Tie their noose with a knot We break !!! We scream !!! One howling brood Comes alive in the spring !!! We don't sing for love !! We can't sing for long !!! We die stomachs empty, But air full of song Ignorant of The years above, We number fourteen, But don't count for love Eyes of red, Instruments of white We are not composers, But still fill the night We break !!! We scream !!! One howling brood Comes alive in the spring !!! We don't sing for love !! We can't sing for long !!! We die stomachs empty, But air full of song !!! Full of song !!!

I don't know my father, And he don't know me I'm as big of a bastard, As a bastard could be, but it's a long time gone, And I'm getting older all along! Went to visit his jail cell, But he was long long gone He was a liar, a cheapskate, a thug, and a crook, Knew every trick in that low-down book, But they got him for check fraud! Now ain't that some shit? Oh, him and Capone, Sure got a kick out of it! Now I'm just a frail, nerdy weak piece of shit, But my left wisdom tooth had more character in it Than that oaf! Now ain't that right! And I must admit that it stung like a bitch To have no one there to holding that catcher's mitt, But I was an inside kid, Couldn't handle the heat! He knew Lupin the Third through Lupin the Sixth, But gentleman thieves and him could not mix, So they knocked his fucking teeth in, And left him there on the road! Oh, men like him, Can't honor no thieves' code! If the day should come that him and I meet, Standing across that potholed street, I'd have to look away! I'm too cowardly for that! It's like looking in a mirror, But only the worst looks back! Oh and I don't know if I could ever be a dad when Stepping on bugs still makes me sad, But I gotta, Be better than him! And I don't know how to end this song when So many men have done us all wrong, We're just stupid kids, Doing the best we can!

Who are the saints Of your secular religion? Who do you call upon When you got no pot to piss in? There's a certain kind of joy, Found in that dedication! I'm the patron saint of changes, And you don't know what you're missin'! Oh, Saint Lomax I hear those tapes a-whirrin'! I know you're listening, Those systems you're inferring! You and that Holy Riddle Saved so much in vinyl dust! The High and Lonesome Tone Of the kudzu all around us! Who are the saints Of your secular religion? Who do you call upon When you got no pot to piss in? There's a certain kind of joy, Found in that dedication! I'm the patron saint of collecting, And you don't know what you're missin'! Oh Saint Justin I know your wounds are stinging, But the small ones love you so, Their kisses they are bringing! A sweet blue lover, In a tiny tin can package! Oh it's you that they love so, Oh it's you that they ravage! Who are the saints Of your secular religion? Who do you call upon When your sorrows got you wishing, For that certain kind of joy Found in that dedication, For caring for the small things Most folk are prone to missing? Well I love this world, And the people prone to loving !!! The possums and the willow trees, And the babies that are growing !!! Saints Rosetta and Danny Johnston and The good Reverend Shoulders !!! Professor Willi and that cheap-ass beer, and the yard-sale saw-horse holders !!! Who are the saints Of your secular religion? Who do you call upon When you got no pot to piss in? There's a certain kind of joy, Found in that dedication! I'm the patron saint of something, and I don't know what I'm missin' !!!