Из альбома: Aw C'mon
Hobbled by the fact
That there must be a problem
Confident that there’s a trace
Of honor that we share
So let’s begin again
And let’s not try to answer
With subtle irony
Instead of common sense
Take me to your room
And lay me on the bed
Looking at the stamps
That slowly you’ve collected
The impression that was made
As you frequently do fly
Dripping on the dock
You shiver from the cold
You’re looking pretty good
And I’m feeling pretty old
Is sudden mastery
Of most of the decisions
Convinced of steady growth
In the hours that will come
To take the best of me And throw it to the dogs
You can call me bastard
And you can call me friend
But don’t forget to call me Before the story ends
Covered in a fabric
That’s made from good intent
Poking through a hole
That been eaten by a moth
Let’s pretend I’m guilty
Of everything you’ve mentioned
Reproductively unsound
Reproductively inclined
But can I change the system
Of how I have been measured
It’s really unattractive
How little I really know
So shoot me through a cannon
Squash me like a bug
Or sweep me like some dirt
That lies under a rug
Let’s start up a petition
To get me out of town
Each time I bring you up It seem to bring you down