Cut Short Songtext

I’m still living my my mom and dad

But really I’m going places

Even though I’m seeing three of your faces

Please, God, let’s not resort to mini-mall parking spaces



Encounters with the police, with my hands in the air

Encounters with police

Why ask if you don’t care?



I just had no idea that this would be lasting just for one single moment


I just have to say, you look so goddamn good

I give you crazy mad props, because I know I should

OK, I’m a bit intoxicated, but really I just graduated

And from where my hands are situated

Obviously, I’m growing more and more and more

Infatuated, just wait, please wait



We could be like onions and peppers

In a sleeping bag fajita

We could be anything you want

The way you’re busting out of that wife-beater

And I know it’s a bit uncomfortable here in this two-door seater

But you’re just the right size,

And I will always feed you and feed you and feed you



If you were driving next to me

Say, on the LIE

My eyes would become so engaged

I’d float unconsciously into the HOV

Kill myself, the guy in front of me

His inflatable passengers of one, two or three