I'm a strapped-in loner, I was heedin' that shame
You never shake my hand, you never know my name
A crack house cooling, just chewin' the floor
I pass out cold and I go look for some more
I got all kinds of devices that I'm gonna detonate
Got a .45 magazine, rags of gasoline
Phone booth, gold tooth, a pigeon wing
Got bazookas, hand grenades
Firebomb weddings, spray down parades
I used to work in an office in the outskirts of town
Routine, the grindstone grinding me down
So I picked up a filing cabinet and threw it at my boss
And then I took him outside and hung him on a cross
Then I kept walking on down the road, oh yeah
Well, fourteen uzis later and a bottle of rum, a cigarette lighter and a live chicken
Got in all kinds of mischief, some kinds I won't tell, I did all kinds of things
Well, I went into the peekaboo hut to watch the lady have sex with a mutt
And then, uh, then I then I had a demolition derby with some shopping carts
And I killed every pop star in the top-twenty charts
I like to hijack people, I like to jump through movie screens at the best ??
I was reading that hardcore magazine, "101 Erotic Things To Do With Bologna"
Then I went home and I painted the tv screen on the old black and white tv
And I painted a picture on it, and I watched it all night long
I ate a live dog and I buried his bones, then I carved out a tombstone
I got shell-casings in the freezer, a money belt in the drawer
I stole some blank checks and I used them down at the comic book store
I read a lot of comic books