I know this guy   If I'm the mayonnaise, he's the cream   Some sit and wait for the ride   While others become the scene      And he can see a Wednesday morning   Like others see Friday night   It's all an open book   It's just how you vandalize      A double stitch on the shirttail   While the rest of us split on the seams   He talks about Art Blakey   And I pretend to know what he means      So now it's three gigs a night   While your girl digs up the UAE   And burn up like a matchstick   The whole damn city can see      The sun caught me hiding   Just enough for someone to see   My heart in my hands, the tracks of my glands   Cracking through the grit in my teeth      So when did you decide   That there's only so much you can lose?   The best choices come   Just when there's nothing left to choose      So you blow up letterboxes and chlorine bombs   'Coz it's a weekend blitz on the dicks   Who just can't whistle the tune   Yeah and yeah, hit while I sit here on my hands   Measuring compliments with a spoon   And I'm never too far away      I know this guy   If I'm the mayonnaise, he's the cream   Some sit and wait for the ride   While others become the scene      And he can see a Wednesday morning   Like others see Friday night   It's all an open book   It's just how you vandalize