But the Nuns Are Watching

Look he drank straight from the faucet Holy shit he's fucking lost it We only enjoy fine sparkling water Fed something adhesive to your daughter Look he drank straight from the faucet Holy shit he's fucking lost it We only enjoy fine sparkling water Fed something adhesive to your daughter Call me old-fashioned, but I think trains kick ass I don't need hot wheels to get to class What the hell is wrong with him? His hairs so long it needs a trim I heard he packs a lot in those bloomers It's probably true like all the other rumors You think you're modern, but that taste won't last It just won't last And everything you own will be (Will be) the fucking past The fucking past Cynicism save me Turn me around and march me back up the sidewalk to my door Take me back inside and throw my trench-coat on the floor Lead me back into my bedroom And make me put my clothes back on Grab the mag-lite, get the grappling hook Lets find the bottom of this cave and close the book The salt on my lips is an enzyme That metabolizes reality To fuel these dirty delusions You're leading me to these conclusions The organs exploding in my torso Like a series of city blocks giving into a nuclear blast And now my pressure relief valve is activated Maybe I should stop holding my breath I'll prove it, come sit next to me Tell me what you do at work you half-hearted intimacy We'll be like gay actors Over and out Having the kind of sex sacrificial virgins fantasize about But if I knew your name, it would have to be for charity Just try me, test me, release me Cynicism reassure me that If we only had less clothing and better light It would all just be an embarrassing misunderstanding The sudden silences aren't the crash Where lips should be If this were a contract I wouldn't sign