Blah blah blah speak to me in your city
when the shot strikes down and you feel ******.

** dee ** can we sing a little praise
for the girl with the pretty poppin braids?

So **** my blood and call me Jesus Christ
or **** my **** up I'm feeling enticed.

Take a shot, pour a shot, self-enticed joy.
Or sit inside your room you sad poor boy.

I lust for love, to call your soul my own,
yet I laugh alone in my dreary home.

Sorry that you suffered in this abyss
when all we needed was a little kiss.