Print

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 mеaning Yes I am repeating thе 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 SongtexteMy 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! Aus Songtexte Mania