I guess you wanna be my dog boy
My inflamed ego's chew toy
Will you be my Mr. Vicodin?
Fighting for my life when the law breaks in
I see you stare at my mouth
When I am talking to you
I think I see what you're trying to do
I owe you a dollar and we're both screwed
Follow me around, clean up my mess
Wait for me to eat the heart from your chest
After it's gone, gone, gone, gone
You'll still think that I'm the best
Sorry I don't like you
Enough to touch
Sorry that I like you
But not that much
I'd like to say
I don't need your help
But all I can do
Is fuck myself
I guess you wanna be my dog boy
My inflamed ego's chew toy
Will you be my Mr. Vicodin?
Fightin' for my life when the law breaks in
Sorry I don't like you
Enough to touch
Sorry that I like you
But not that much
I'd like to say
I don't need your help
But all that I can do
Is fuck myself
credits
from Love Letters from Mifflin Street,
track released November 23, 2010
Noodle C vocals, clarinet, kitchen drums
Linda Gun vocals, saxophone, guitar, kitchen drums
BBQ Whore garbage can drums, background chatter
Lyrics Noodle
Music Linda
Recording and Production BBQ Whore
THANK YOU SO MUCH BBQ!!
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