Kleenex Girl Wonder Thanks!... For The Emotional Disease
Crazy is a disease; it passed from you into me
And now it flows in a continuous stream
I need a little release to feel a bit of relief
But I can't let go, literally
I hold on too long to foregone conclusions
So if you're wrong, I'm right
Let's move on, why fight?
Because you're wrong and there's a price to be paid
Plus there's a war on, it's only right to get laid
So this can go on record as a minor mistake
And a couple of Botox sessions will wipe the lines from your face
But please no more questions or forced confessions
Or Russian roulette with Cold War weapons
I guess I thought you had learned your lesson
But I'm always wrong, so no more guessin'
Ah, life is a bag of chessmen
And each one'll get to you if you let them
Ah, ah, this part is the best
When he carves in his chest with a blunt Sheaffer Crest pen:
"Hatred is self-esteem expressed in binary
And crushed and magnified electronically"
And, "Sainthood is an extreme form of hate speech
It all depends on your direction and speed"
But you cruise through in the two-door
With the 22's and the humidor
In the dashboard, let loose the gas pedal
Fast forward to the past
Get a handle on yourself, you brat
The long way home is a lonely path
So I hope you have a rote rehash
Of a thought-provoking quote from a grocery bag
Or a rope, and a gag, and a goalie mask
And I only ask for what you owe in back
Emotional blackmail withholding taxes
In cold hard cash, and my Boeing glasses
Thanks for the flashes of Mozart madness
And the Ozark folk art and soul dispassion
Ah, I'll get you back
Okay, I got you, thanks!
