the night’s smoking like you’ll never turn in thus was born another deadbeat boyfriend living, breathing scum afloat on insufficient funds
it’s a heavy moon and you’re writing for it but you ain’t nothing til the sun adores ya just give the folks what they need and you can make the checks out to me
between you and me, it just may be sick company
everybody’s chasing that goose who’s slingin’ those chart-topping golden yolks a grand buffet of FM waves and you can stuff yourself until you choke can’t you hear them coming for you? those deadbeat hits are gonna floor you
i want to drink from the most epic chorus wearing suits custom tailored for us drinking top-shelp for free throw off those grips of reality
so don’t worry if your moon goes unheard because you’ll be hangin’ it on every record how could it wrong? if the whole world’s singing along?