WHY? - Bitter Thoughts Lyrics
Keep your producer guessingWhen you're in the booth confessingAnd say it was mostly fictionIf they ever come to get youBetter bet your bottom dollarOn the spirit, son, and fatherThat I'll spit and shit and holler, yeahCause I'm my mother's daughterBe warned, my temper burnsLike a ginger-blow pugilistUnconcerned, I never learned to swing elbowsOr use my fistTrying to live and let live and focusInvest in problem marketsBut killer's on a road tripHis text says not with carcassFrom the backs of tent flyers in penThe guilt-racked liar pretends to confessWhen I was a little fat kidI'd throw fits and punch doorsMy frame is the sameI've just thinned; I want moreDown pinned on the floorTrading places with my shadowA pallid sallow corpse for a rising hell to swallowFully unarmed or armed under the robes with a staff onlyOr unarmed fully under the robesThrough the ribs and inner butBut for a bulging lung of poisonPoised to voice its cutsAnd what's worse, of courseThe sick and bile-y gutsFrom the backs of tent flyers in penThe guilt-racked liar pretends to confessThey asked him whether he was saneAnd if he'll ever kill againTake half a clever lawyer's brainTo link the weapon to the manBitter thoughts, liver spotsOr bash your skull on river rocksLove you lots, signed mom with heartsOXOX on a Hallmark cardFrom the backs of tent flyers in penThe guilt-racked liar pretends to confess
