Swordfight against my stomach acids
Hot sauce covering my shirt like a canvas
Hot pink cheeks and a burning tongue
Pyromantic death inside my lungs
Fifteen chicken wings to earn the respect
Of drunken strangers I’ve never even met
Of bartenders who bring a glass of milk
Of everyone else who wants vicarious thrills
My admirers know nothing about me
Except how much I’m willing to eat
If I told them about my inner struggles
Would they give me love or childish chuckles?
Beer at times makes monsters out of men
Drugs and paranoia put them on the defense
Makes them say things that shouldn’t be public
Racism, sexism, and homophobic fuckups
I leave the bar the same way I came in
Sober and depressed, not a shot of gin
Wouldn’t like the alcohol any damn ways
No sense in crashing and breaking my face
A bottle of Tums when I hit the sack
Not enough room for a midnight snack
Not enough memories to last forever
Except for ones that bring ocular weather
They say tomorrow is another day
Another chance to feel not so okay
Another chance to fuck it all away
Another swallow of pills to ease the pain
At least the wings were good, it’s all I can ask
They’ll feel like a flamethrower out of my ass
Ask me if I’d do it again in a heartbeat?
I’m already starving for some carved meat
Rinse and repeat, get the same results
Stomach ablaze, a heart stone cold
But I’ll never turn down a chance at food
Even with a fucked up brain, I’m in the mood
Even with a fucked up heart, I’ll chow down
Even with a Buddha belly bigger than a cow
Even with cholesterol plugging up my veins
Even with underwear covered in butt stains
Fifteen chicken wings? Give me fifteen more
I’ll keep breaking records for the top score
Earn cheers and high fives from the guys
As the hot sauce makes me sneeze and cry
