I was taught to always be nice so I open doors on impulse Always make room on the sidewalk though I notice no one else does They just plow through knocking you down With a smug look on their faces So I stay home writing my songs in my fantasy oasis Would it be out of line To spend the rest of my life in my head? While I'm running my thumb all along on a razor's edge? Getting warm in the tub while I'm watching the clouds Of the blood I spread
But I never said What I wanted to say What I wanted to say What I wanted to say What I wanted to say Was DROP DEAD.
I'm a loner, like or not. A Marat. Inside I'm lonely Purified my masochism in a bleeding ceremony Light a candle, open my hand, and I'll end retaliations From the dog pack cowardice here in the gauchest of the nations
Would it be too benign To spend the rest of my time in my head? Am I hurting myself to remember? Like Orson's sled? I've been waiting so long for the words to this song I bet I bleed to death
But I never said What I wanted to say What I wanted to say What I wanted to say What I wanted to say Was DROP DEAD.
Now I hope that magically I will emerge back into life Even though I'm vanishing now in a hemlock bath of wine Become a hero swinging my sword in a bloody ancient world And leave the life here ruined by guilt where they need to thin the herd
DROP DEAD.
Was what I wanted to say What I wanted to say Was DROP DEAD.
What I wanted to say What I wanted to say Was DROP DEAD.
What I wanted to say What I wanted to say What I wanted to say...
