T**s Up

5 day forecast clouds in a piss cup Trying to pinpoint when the shit went tits up Whatcha gonna do to get your ass out of this rut So you don't have to live your whole life tits up Precious, brothers ain't a name in lights A last rice cake shaped under flames and dice That known to cope gotta swap old campfire chillers The kind that only grow in vampire state cellars And climb out of jars when they migrate westward Where they were free of any chessboard square Hi, I don't shake beer in the dark I write but I'm no Shakespeare in the park I'm a grownsed up punk with an ear for a heart and I hear you Please wait here for the ark Yes sir, likely to fester inactive unless they address all the death And distraction, shake hands with a foxhole raider Got a grip like c-c-c-c-combo breaker Tally up the dead folk squashed in a car Fire still warm they couldn't have gone far Packed up tough in your double stuff swimtrunks Cannonballs recalled when your shit split New high score on the IHop Dig-Dug Pretty cool otherwise pretty much How can I save you when I can barely save myself? Codependent No More on my audiobook shelf Cruise to your town in my cape and my unitard See what I can do with my lyrics and guitar Now I got my sidekick who brings the beatdown Have you seen the size of his feet? Clown shoes with his own name in gold on the side If you're in the dark we'll bring in a little Lite Brite Pop in the pegs Make cute pictures Pick up some merch, make us permanent fixtures On the self-help shelf of your record collection So if shit's tits up you can make the selection That will take you from limp to a little bit pumped up Our HQ is gluten free bun truck Shhh, zip your lips Don't tell the bad guys Shine that giant bun signal in the sky Wait a few months for us to arrive Big group hug, a little awkward Hi. One day you're in luck One day you're stealing cigarettes from a flipped truck Dick face, Tits up You feel a little better when we sign your high tops When you get home it's the same old tits up One half megafawna one half mall rat, haul ass Straight face, dove-tailed ball cap Grape ape unveil plans for the van use Drive to your shit town, tell you that your band rules Live with the get down, maybe out of shampoo Radio on scan for a stanza to lampoon Under the bum drum cutter is a real motherfuckers motherfucker, motherfucker Alex Karras and Conraid Bain and Leather Tuscadero And Pinky and the Brain re-enacting the Universal masturbation movie Dolph cold cocks Courtney love boobies and that over the shoulder anaconda holder You were close to the hole, you're getting colder Bogeyed your birdie when I powdered my putter But there ain't no fluffer that can fluff this nutter One day you're in love One day you're pills suck One day your shits fucked Nip tuck tits up Snookie in a snuggie at the walt witman pitstop Cinnabon, Bon Jovi, slippery tits up High noon, milk duds, cherry cola big gulp Corn dog, dim sum, moon die, tits up Swab your six lips with cholorform litmus Colorforms, horshack, Rorschach Hey Mom, life's good, works great, tip tops P.S. send cash, half dead, Tits up Riding on the back of Undercat Battlepop Underoos, big sword, top drawers Can't plug and old faithful with a fist fuck No rain coat, no dice Go Tits up Shine my shoe kicking elevator missed hugs Seventeenth floor nothing but bugs Brunch at the strip club, corn beef, crisp ones Four teeth, pink tux, porn stash Joey Martin Lawrence – WHOA! Little Stevie King Tut Bad taste walkaways, eternal blame This'll be remembered as the year you ruined Christmas Figgy pudding everywhere, shitty footing Willy Wonka shooting blanks Tae Bo Banks catwalk Looking glass Flexed ass Fizzy lifting tits up Block block, chop block, chop, kick, kick, punch Step over the line if you ever feel tits up Bert cake Unabomber Eyebrow Shit's punk Trimmed muff not so much Fluff's tough