Irony of the situation's curtains drawn
The audience knows
Proud of all the clever ways I've engineered to put you down
A quick glance at your Marilyn thighs
Morse code as they will rub together reads:
“This turn the other cheek approach bitch slaps you beyond repair”
And I don't see a difference between that and the words that I choose
I'm not sure there's any realistic difference between that and the words that I choose
And I'm repeating the word idiot to myself
Until it loses its meaning
Yes I am repeating the word idiot to myself
Until it loses its touch
I just like the way it sounds
You better shut your mouth or you'll wake up the neighbors
Concerns my flesh's current union with yours
“I love myself,” you'll say it over and over
Till you run out of air, pass out, start again
The infinite math of the situation
Subtract your apprehensive hips
And divide: “Every time I pray to, I keep on killing mosquitos”
All the while I am repeating the word idiot to myself
Until it loses its meaning
This is my Spade Cooley bit
My Ronald Reagan pardon
A cigarette on each nipple
And “I've got a feeling this is the first day of the rest of my life”
Idiot!
Idiot!
Idiot!
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