I'm a walking keg of dynamite
Beg me then
I exploded

I'm loaded
It's a sickness bore by drinking
and thinking about the muddy lord

Pages and pages of rock bottom words
Sorting, listing minds on paper
Paperbuilt cages
Crusted now in the tears of men and women
I wanted a weekend of rest
But now after a month of pain I'm awful restless

Let's try to have a friendship dinner
I'll make your favorite food
As long as we find a way to both die
In way we both think feels good