This message in the bottle is my sleek way of stuffin' that good ole old crow full throttle, and it's lingering swagger back into my obvious nothin'. Now I'll never be a pre-teen model.  
My grip to the bottle is furious followed by a sincere pen to the paper, new headlines feature my naughty by nature, marked **** quiet styled lyricist, kickin' back with words of a dark sided linguist.  I'd insist just blowing smoke up that *** but I'm dead ******' serious. I need to  be reassured that the message in the bottle does IN FACT exist.