The shallow model and the karaoke kiss ass,   whose father was Dracula   -and he got some of that-   make a song like this sound better as an interview   with some stoned bitch who stands around in a magazine,   now my behavior is so totally backward,   now I've pushed all my arguments out in front of traffic.   We're we're holding out hope in the minors for a hit close   to home and finally call the family patent clerk   with a diamond for his plate   (we lined up our family physicians and finished them for all the chopped off hands and the suicide saves)      You loosen my belief defense   Communion of disappointment      I've never seen a picture of my pulse.   I always show my ass in the cold coin psalms.   we killed our parents,   we pay the cable   and toot our horns   before the score's ready.   I need the old man like a hole in the head   the mirage shall be taken off the market.